70 Quotes by Grace Curley

Children began by loving their parents; as they grew older, they either became them or abandoned them. Sometimes, they forgave them.

But now they were done running, lying, hiding, apologising, pretending. They were there because they wanted to be, because they had gotten there from years of fighting alone, and had stayed when they found they didn’t have to anymore.

Silences like these were never uncomfortable for them, never an awkward space squabbling for meaningless words to fill it. It was acceptance, of a sort, an understanding. These were the people who had lived long and fitfully enough to discover that they were not alone, that there were people out there who would love and fight with them.

Millions of colors spring up from behind his eyelids, lighting up the dark world like a thousand urns pouring out of the sun.

The snow had vanished, and already the grass had returned to the fields, and the leaves to the branches: what a marvelous time! To kiss the sky with his sun-drenched lips?

Each night he would give up on sleeping in his pain and drowning in his silence; he would watch the few stars that were in the sky that night, but he would never be living them. Something has taken his warmth and replaced it with a starless sky.

I live in sin.” The winged boy’s eyes hadturned downwards, his soft mouth setting grimly with despair. “To kill myself I live. No longer my life my own, but sin’s; my good is given to me by heaven, my evil by myself, by my free will, of which I am deprived.

But the dream is over. He has no one to fly to now. He is among strangers, and his memories would only be a murmur in a darkened room lit by one, snuffing candle.

I’m fine,” is the reply he gives. I think I am surviving, in all the wrong ways, is the reply he thinks.