Thylias Moss Quotes

When you're going through a breakup, you should just let yourself feel everything so you can get over it as opposed to pretending everything's okay and dragging it out.

Food is not a means toward resolution. It can't cure heartbreak or solve untenable dilemmas.

When thought becomes excessively painful, action is the finest remedy.

Music is so therapeutic for me that if I can't get it out, I start feeling bad about myself - a lot of self-loathing.

I have been able to tap into all the negative things that can happen to me throughout my life by numbing myself to the pain so to speak and kind of being able to vent it through my music.

I cry a lot when I feel empathy. I can feel heartbroken by life, and I cry quite easily, sometimes for no reason. It's healthy, I think.

I can cry all day long - that's easy for me.

My imagination was a great place to escape from all the anxiety and disapproval of my life... I had to live in my head... art was a way of making myself feel better.

It's good to actually cry. Trust me, I've had a lot of practice over the years!

I cry a lot. Usually once a day. I think it's one of the most profound forms of human expression.

I cry a lot. I find great solace in it.

Every time I break up with a guy, I play 'Kerosene' in my car on repeat.

I've struggled with self-esteem and depression, like most singer-songwriters. I listen to my EPs on Bandcamp, and I can just hear the pain and the self-esteem struggle in my voice.

Sometimes I have to run and hide. What I do at home sometimes is, I listen to a CD of the roughness of the ocean. I turn every light off, and I turn the stereo on, and I just go in my mind, cry, talk to God, tell him, 'I'm your child, too.' And I stay in my little solitude until I can get the strength to go outdoors.

I suffer from deep depression, so my only release is music.

Breakup blackout is when you're so upset and you've been crying so much that you basically black out for a couple of days. You wake up to mascara caked on your face and empty ice cream cartons everywhere, and your iTunes has, like, four new really bad romantic comedies you've rented. And your friends are texting you, and for three days you're in this black hole.

There's this whole idea that you've got the blues and you're going to write. Bullshit. When I feel really bad, all I want to do is sit in front of the TV with the remote control and check out.

I'm sixty-eight, I cry every chance I can.

We're all unlucky in love sometimes. When I am, I go jogging. The body loses water when you jog, so you have none left for tears.

We laugh, that we may not cry.

She plays music to heal herself, but nothing can heal her brokenness.

That was when I cut my arms with a razor blade as a means of creative expression. I only did it lightly, just grazing the skin, to see the way the blood would bleed out, to make myself look tougher. Not like some of those kids who keep going deeper and deeper, wondering what they look like down to the bone, because it's a world that's so close and yet so far and so dangerous and so much their own. The only world that is their own.

I usually need to sit with pain a while. Really feel it. Then I need to talk it out. Luckily, I am surrounded by wonderful listeners who haven't told me to shut up yet.

I inscribe three lines, hush hush hush, into my skin. Ghosts trickle out.

Healing comes when we meet our wounded places with compassion.