Everything I didn__ know I was looking for_it__ there whenever I__ with you. I don__ know what it is that you think I deserve, but I don__ want anything other than what__ right here, right now.

Evil is a double-edged sword, if you use it you'll end up cutting you

Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, __ook at my beautiful home! Isn__ it fine?_ And not, __ook at the home so-and-so has built._ Thus we shouldn__ cry, __ook what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!_ But rather, __ook at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?

If you throw stones on my way to stumble and I fall, you try to put extra care when passing my way, lest you stumble and fall.

To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge

Last night I did things my mother told me not to with the people I shouldn't see in the places that I should not go..