I taught you how to rock climb. You taught me how to love.
Nobody looks exotically beautiful after three days of sleeping on a couch.
We have to keep celebrating life in order to pay proper tribute to the horrible parts.
The world doesn’t need one more half-asleep person typing carelessly away at one more project that will be finished with a sense of indifference.
When you love someone, you choose them. You choose them over other people who pull at your heartstrings and play on your fantasies.
Ask anyone who’s ever succeeded: chances are their pasts are swarming with failures. Fail, and fail often. It’s proof that you’re learning.
Those who acknowledge they have flaws are usually the most willing to work through them. The ones who can’t acknowledge flaws are most likely to blame other people and then go cry about their feelings in a corner.
We are playing the musical chairs version of intimacy and it’s leaving us all with bruised bottoms. When the music stops, who’s all alone? Who is the last Serial Single left standing?
Your relationship was not a game that the other man/woman won because they were skinnier or sexier or had a cuter laugh than you.
I may be a globe-trotting hippie making minimum payments on my student loans while teaching overseas regularly, but my brother is a high-ranking investment banker who makes more in a year than I will probably make my whole life. It could be argued with fervor that my brother is not grasping life by its reins and that I am.