Coco J. Ginger Quotes
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Dear Heart, please go away.
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I had hoped to be disliked by most, not by way of rebellion, but by way of excellence, disdain for the habitual, and the common man’s inability to grasp this. The act of being scorned? I saw it as a victory, my irreverent boast against this world which could never fully quench me.
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To say “I love you, but….” is to say, “I did not love you at all.
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What I knew, adored, and fell for was a fantasy. He did not exist in human terms.
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Her heart had grown so familiar to the pain of life without him, that to respond now seemed too large a pleasure she could not endure. If pain was love, then she loved fiercely. Yet knew she could not be near that boy again.
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He's just not that into you if he is a sociopath.
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I hate you. I hate you like the girl who hates cake because it makes her fat and she can’t stop eating it.
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Here I sit like a brainless robot writing the uncensored, chaotic, evil thoughts springing about in my temperamental female brain.
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You'll never like me, but you'll always love me.
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If I wasn't so phenomenal. I would go back to you.
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You're too big for another heart beat, unable to sync with my capricious heart beating.
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Love is not of value when this superficial contract must be drawn up, representing the two worlds that enclose us.
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You’ll lie again, you’ll do it again. Friends, not friends, friends, not friends, I’m on your dime, I’m on your time, and I don’t exist where there is a YOU.
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Bittersweet? No, just bitter, the taste of your tongue. Words you can’t have back, so they linger.
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I won’t let you have it. I won’t give you this moment. I won’t let you fill up this valuable organ...I own it. I won’t do it. I can’t think, I won’t think about it.
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Some girls need men to take them places. Others just click their heels, spread their own wings, and fly.
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....hurts not just the heart, but every part.
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I wear my heart on my blog.
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What is love, if not the abandonment of all sanity, all dignity?
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Writer? A complimentary term to conceal one’s insanities.
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You own me, because you are me.
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He brought out the worst in me, and was the best thing that ever happened to me.
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I near felt bad he choose to be so evil. I am a forgiving woman, but my pen... oh my wicked wicked hormonal she-pen.
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Overexposing my innards to careless hearts and hands is a practice I am prepared to stop performing.