Love is all right for those who can handle the psychic overload. It’s like trying to carry a full garbage can on your back over a rushing river of piss.

Love…is kinda like…you know when you see a fog in the morning when you wake up before the sun comes out? It’s just there a little while, then it burns away. It burns away…quickly. Love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality.

Don’t worry, nobody’s ever loved me yet.

I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
to love.