228 Quotes About Beautiful-writing

She ached: oh, how she ached. Her soul was like one big bruise.

Guilt. It hurts almost as much as her body.

There are normal hours, and then there are invalid hours, when time stalls and slips, when life -real life- seems to exist at one remove.

There are normal hours, and then there are invalid hour, when time stalls and slips, when life -real life- seems to exist at one remove

All we had was her room, her stories, and the quiet that settled in as we tried in vain to spread ourselves out and fill the space she'd left behind.

All beautiful things must end. Otherwise they are not beautiful.

And as the light flickered over it in bands, I had the queasy sense of my own life, in comparison, as a patternless and transient burst of energy, a fizz of biological static just as random as the street lamps flashing past.

I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve such a wonderful gift, and I wasn't sure if it was insolent, but I thanked God for fallen angels.

She was thinner than she had been. The thing ate only sparingly. Enough to keep Kasia alive, not enough to keep me from watching her wear away, her body growing gaunt and her face hollow-cheeked.