A curious thing happens when you harden your heart until it's unbreakable: it becomes unable to love too.
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Sometimes the world is like a bed of roses. The deceitful scent and lovely petals draw your attention away from the thorns harbored underneath.
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The man who always avoids what he is afraid of lives his whole life in fear.
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They say we all have monsters of a sort hiding under the bed, but I say the worst ones hide in the mirror.
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Maybe we would be more mindful of the number of trees we cut to the ground if we could hear them screaming. But then again...we haven't ever been mindful of that before.
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The human condition: hearts born to love; hearts gone at death.
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Liken us to the early alchemists: they spent their lives searching for the secret to eternal life and happiness, and before they knew it, the time they already had was up.
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Maybe it's not the person who's suited to your heart, but your heart that becomes suited to the person.
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Even the smallest blade of grass will spring defiantly back up, no matter how many times it is stepped on.
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Pigeons are just another kind of dove.
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Reminders
RandomI guess I feel obliged to put something on here, since I made an account, though it isn't a story or anything and it's not all that interesting and it's really short. This was the result of a prompt to write a few aphorisms, some of your own little...
