When you think you're right, you're most likely wrong.

Doing the right thing for someone else occasionally means doing something that feels wrong to you.

But love wasn't about sacrifice, and it wasn't about falling short of someone's expectations. By definition, love made you better than good enough; it redefined perfection to include your traits, instead of excluding them. All any of us wanted, really, was to know that we counted. That someone else's life would not have been as rich without us here.

The truth doesn't always set you free; people prefer to believe prettier, neatley wrapped lies

The truth is the truth.

Since when does anyone get the option to do the easiest?