She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood.
She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.
— Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things (via whyallcaps)
I want to be the kind of woman that you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you can even speak to. I want to make you understand that I am precious and I am hellfire and I am done taking shit from anyone.
I want you to see nothing except steel and sharp edges instead of tears and soft bruises. I want you to scream at the thought of me slamming the door behind me. I want to trade bodies, I want to trade nerves, I want to trade hearts. You can feel the tenderness of this skin for a while. You can ache with the bruises of old memories and the scars of old battles and the fragility of these weary bones.
I want to be the one toying with power plays, laying down the law. I want to be the one zipping up the suitcase instead of unraveling on the floor.
Far too many people are looking for the right person, instead of trying to be the right person.
— Gloria Steinem (via un-exotic)