Laurell K. Hamilton Quotes

You lit into me last night. You said what I did was stupid. - That's what my head said. But my heart... My stupid heart... Her voice broke. It was singing.

At this, Constance sat down on a rock and covered her face. She seemed smaller than ever now - so small the harbor breeze might catch her up like a scrap of paper and carry her away, carry her into nowhere.

Indeed — why should I not admit it? — in that moment, my heart was breaking.

And so this young one, this young one whom I had so loved, I had to forsake, no matter how broken my heart, no matter how lonely my soul, no matter how bruised my intellect and spirit.

It hurts to love. It's like giving yourself to be flayed and knowing that at any moment the other person may just walk off with your skin.

My heart is its own grave!

The dimensions of my feelings are too violent.

I have sadness in me. I have anger in me. I have heartbreak in me.

Emotions are my weakness. It is in my blood. It is very difficult to control.

I cry sometimes. I get very upset.

Most anger stems from feelings of weakness, sadness and fear: hard to remember when one is at the receiving end of its defiant roar.

I am truly miserable - more so than I like to acknowledge to myself. Pride refuses to aid me. It has brought me into the scrape, and will not help me out of it.

My heart's been torn wide open, just like I feared it would be, and I have no willpower to close it back up.

I'll never fall in love again... it's like having two souls at the same time.

Just leave me alone. I'm not myself. I'm falling apart, and I don't want you here.

Well in case you failed to notice, In case you failed to see, This is my heart bleeding before you, This is me down on my knees These foolish games are tearing me apart Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart You're breaking my heart

Depression is the flaw in love. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair.

She wept with shame for her lack of will and with fear for a love she couldn't control.

in the caves of my heart, where pain taps out its rhythms and sorrow sets its loss, i am without direction.

My heart beat Beats me senselessly Why's everything Gotta be so intense with me.

This was my one brush with love. Was it love? It felt awful enough. I spent another two years crawling around in the skin of it, smoking too much and growing too thin and having stray thoughts of jumping from my balcony like a tortured heroine in a Russian novel.

I felt as I hadn't felt for ages. I had a foolish desire to burst into tears. for the first time I'd realized how all these people loathed me.

Now that my ladder's gone, I must lie down where all my ladders start, In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried.