Quotes added on Monday, March 14 2016
don't fall in love with the moment
and think you're in love with the girl.
I thought about Juliet some more.
I wondered what she would have done if Romeo had left her, not because he was banished, but because he lost interest? What if Rosalind had given him the time of day, and he'd changed his mind? What if, instead of marrying Juliet, he'd just disappeared?
I thought I knew how Juliet would feel.
She wouldn't go back to her old life, not really. She wouldn't ever have moved on, I was sure of that. Even if she'd lived until she was old and gray, every time she closed her eyes, it would have been Romeo's face she saw behind her lids. She would have accepted that, eventually. I wondered if she would have married Paris in the end, just to please her parents, to keep the peace. No, probably not, I decided. But then, the story didn't say much about Paris. He was just a stick figure – a placeholder, a threat, a deadline to force her hand.
What if there were more to Paris?
What if Paris had been Juliet's friend? Her very best friend? What if he was the only one she could confide in about the whole devastating thing with Romeo? The one person who really understood her and made her feel halfway human again? What if he was patient and kind? What if he took care of her? What if Juliet knew she couldn't survive without him? What if he really loved her, and wanted her to be happy?
And... what if she loved Paris? Not like Romeo. Nothing like that, of course. But enough that she wanted him to be happy, too?
I wondered what she would have done if Romeo had left her, not because he was banished, but because he lost interest? What if Rosalind had given him the time of day, and he'd changed his mind? What if, instead of marrying Juliet, he'd just disappeared?
I thought I knew how Juliet would feel.
She wouldn't go back to her old life, not really. She wouldn't ever have moved on, I was sure of that. Even if she'd lived until she was old and gray, every time she closed her eyes, it would have been Romeo's face she saw behind her lids. She would have accepted that, eventually. I wondered if she would have married Paris in the end, just to please her parents, to keep the peace. No, probably not, I decided. But then, the story didn't say much about Paris. He was just a stick figure – a placeholder, a threat, a deadline to force her hand.
What if there were more to Paris?
What if Paris had been Juliet's friend? Her very best friend? What if he was the only one she could confide in about the whole devastating thing with Romeo? The one person who really understood her and made her feel halfway human again? What if he was patient and kind? What if he took care of her? What if Juliet knew she couldn't survive without him? What if he really loved her, and wanted her to be happy?
And... what if she loved Paris? Not like Romeo. Nothing like that, of course. But enough that she wanted him to be happy, too?
Your soul has fallen to
bits and pieces. Good. Rearrange them to
suit
YouRseLF.
“
Parents
have this twisted belief that anyone under the age of about
twenty simply can’t know what love is, like the age to love
is assessed in the same way the law assesses the legal age to
drink. They think that the ‘emotional growth’ of a
teenager’s mind is too underdeveloped to understand love,
to know if it’s ‘real’ or not. That's
completely asinine. The truth is that adults love in different
ways, not the only way.—J.A. Redmerski
”
“
Dwelling
and planning is bulls.hit, you dwell on
the past, you can’t move forward. Spend too much time
planning for the future and you just push yourself backwards, or
you stay stagnant in the same place all your life. Live in the
moment, where everything is just right, take your time and limit
your bad memories and you’ll get wherever it is
you’re going a lot faster and with less bumps in the road
along the way.—J.A. Redmerski
”
Listen — sometimes courage is as simple as opening your
eyes in the morning. Sometimes it’s as easy as making the
effort to eat your breakfast without spelling their name in
your cereal, or breaking your teeth on their goodbyes.
Sometimes courage is the way you fall in love with your
sadness, how you let it rock you to sleep, how you feel it and
face it and tell yourself every single night that you can
overcome it, even if you feel like you can’t.
No, sometimes courage isn’t a big declaration, a common accomplishment. Sometimes courage is the way you slowly comb them out of your hair; sometimes courage is hearing their voice in public and not turning your head or having your stomach feel like a shaken up can of soda. Sometimes courage is smiling for your younger sister when your heart is breaking, sometimes it's telling her that love exists even on the days you simply don’t believe it does.
See, sometimes courage isn’t climbing Mount Everest or changing the world. Sometimes your mountain to climb is made up of weekdays and months, made up of pushing yourself forward even when you want to nestle into the past. Sometimes changing the world means changing your world, as gradually as you need to, as gently as you heal, because sometimes courage isn’t made up of war, and bloodshed; sometimes courage isn’t made of combat. Sometimes courage is a quiet fight, a dim softness within you, that flickers even on your darkest days, and reminds you that you are strong, that you are growing — that there is hope.
No, sometimes courage isn’t a big declaration, a common accomplishment. Sometimes courage is the way you slowly comb them out of your hair; sometimes courage is hearing their voice in public and not turning your head or having your stomach feel like a shaken up can of soda. Sometimes courage is smiling for your younger sister when your heart is breaking, sometimes it's telling her that love exists even on the days you simply don’t believe it does.
See, sometimes courage isn’t climbing Mount Everest or changing the world. Sometimes your mountain to climb is made up of weekdays and months, made up of pushing yourself forward even when you want to nestle into the past. Sometimes changing the world means changing your world, as gradually as you need to, as gently as you heal, because sometimes courage isn’t made up of war, and bloodshed; sometimes courage isn’t made of combat. Sometimes courage is a quiet fight, a dim softness within you, that flickers even on your darkest days, and reminds you that you are strong, that you are growing — that there is hope.
you
ruin
your
life
by
desensitizing yourself. We are all afraid
to say too much, to feel too deeply, to let people know what
they mean to us. Caring is not synonymous with crazy.
Expressing to someone how special they are to you will make you
vulnerable. There is no denying that. However, that is nothing
to be ashamed of. There is something breathtakingly beautiful
in the moments of smaller magic that occur when you strip down
and are honest with those who are important to you. Let that
girl know that she inspires you. Tell your mother you love her
in front of your friends. Express, express, express. Open
yourself up, do not harden yourself to the world, and be bold
in who, and how you love. There is courage in
that.
know that you're heaven sent, not irrelevant
