“The music glides between the pores of your skin to bubble through your veins in place of blood, and you can't help but clutch the mic with both trembling hands and let the song flow out of you like blood from a wound. In those moments, when the music has replaced everything and even awareness of your own body has… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share
“I could write a song and her name would be the music. I could string, strum a guitar, and her body would… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“It wasn't supposed to. It was just supposed to stop you from hurting yourself.” “It helps—” “No it doesn't. It just pushes… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“The songs we sing to each other are statements. An ongoing discussion in music notes.” — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Sometimes while performing time itself seems to stop when you hit your notes just right. The music glides between the pores of… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Mundane things like TV, music, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram…they all fall away when you’re in a hospital room, watching your child suffer. All… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“My prerogative as your father is to break the face of anyone who fucks with you. And I will, whether you like it or… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Your brothers…do they all look like you?” I couldn’t help asking. I really couldn’t. He shot me the smirk again. “I’m the oldest,… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“I'm in battle mode. Shut down. Hard. I'm not Hunter anymore. I'm Lance Corporal Lee, USMC. Semper Fi, bitches.” — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Empty Sex is like Pringles: You can eat million of them, but they never really fill you up. If you want to be truly… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“I will always love you. You saved me, Rania.” “No, you saved me.” “We saved each other, then,” — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Yeah. I know why she cuts. I just don’t know the seed-reason. It’s deep inside her, and it’ll take time and patience to get… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Nothing. It is nothing. Stop worrying about me." "I can't stop worrying about you.” — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
Compassion and pity are not the same: pity is looking down on someone, feeling sorry for them and offering nothing; compassion is seeing their… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“You’re so fucking gloriously gorgeous that I literally cannot stand it. I’m having to remind myself to keep breathing, because you take my breath… — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
“Messy hair, uncombed, gel-free, un-styled and perfectly imperfect.” — Jasinda Wilder Copy Share Image
