“We are our own tragedies. The people we love seemingly are only endings that we prefer before the curtain falls on its… — Laura Chouette Copy Share Image
“The Price Love will probably kill me, Long before I fell out of it, Or madly in with another. It will rush like a red hand, With doubt and steady stillness, Of another lover into something else. It will kill with everything, But a feeling of full self-despair, And a moment of bitter nostalgia. Love will probably kill me, Leaving everything I am behind, Or giving me anything… — Laura Chouette Copy Share
“While we haunt ourselves, we become part of others. With all our broken pieces, we are gathered in mosaics— reflecting every careless… — Laura Chouette Copy Share Image
“My kind of love is made for the stage, untouchable and unbroken; its fate is to be doomed in repetition, in the… — Laura Chouette Copy Share Image
