Love built on pain-the kind that lasts: whatever you love can be taken away from us at any moment but the loss of what we love belongs to us forever.

Sorrow can't be drowned in drink, it knows how to swim.

I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.

It lit up like a Christmas Tree Hazel Grace...

Why is love such a sorrowful thing, this I never could understand; passion and pain are linked together, ever I find them hand in hand.

Hurt. Enough to want to make someone else hurt too.