I wish I wrote the way I thought
Obsessively
Incessantly
With maddening hunger
I’d write to the point of suffocation
I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing
And I’d write about you
a lot more
than I should
— Benedict Smith / “I Wish I Wrote The Way I Thought”
Desperate people date because of what they lack and are hoping to get from somebody else. Dependent (On Christ) people date because of what they have and want to give to someone else. Desperate people date out of emptiness. Dependent people date out of overflow.
— Miles Welch
Her heart sank into her shoes as she realized at last how much she wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that she would ever let him know, but only that he moved her chemically more than anyone she had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, A New Leaf
