Long Love Quotes Biography

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Long Quotes

I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. Nobody’s going to give you anything. You’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you. And nobody will be as sorry as you if you don’t get it. So don’t give up on your dreams.

I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. Nobody’s going to give you anything. You’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you. And nobody will be as sorry as you if you don’t get it. So don’t give up on your dreams.

We’ve all been lost for most of this life
Everywhere we turn more hatred surrounds us
And I know that most of us just ain’t right
Following the wrong steps being led by pride
-avenged sevenhold

here’s to the kids. the kids who would rather spend their night with a bottle of coke and Patrick or Sonny playing on their headphones than go to some vomit-stained high school party. here’s to the kids whose 11:11 wish was wasted on one person who will never be there for them. here’s to the kids whose idea of a good night is sitting on the hood of a car, watching the stars. here’s to the kids who were never too good at life, but still were wicked cool. here’s to the kids who listened to Fall Out Boy and Hawthorne Heights before they were on MTV and blame MTV for ruining their life. here’s to the kids who care more about the music than the haircuts. here’s to the kids who have crushes on a stupid lush. here’s to the kids who hum “a little less 16 candles, a little more touch me” when they’re stuck home, dateless, on a Saturday night. here’s to the kids who have ever had a broken heart from someone who didn’t even know they existed. here’s to the kids who have read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and didn’t feel so alone after doing so. here’s to the kids who spend their days in photobooths with their best friends. here’s to the kids who are straight up smartasses and just don’t care. here’s to the kids who speak their mind. here’s to the kids who consider screamo their lullaby for going to sleep. here’s to the kids who second guess themselves on everything they do. here’s to the kids who will never have 100 percent confidence in anything they do, and to the kids that are okay with that. here’s to the kids. this one’s not for the kids who always get what they want, but for the ones who never had it at all. it’s not for the ones who never get caught, but for the ones who always try and fail. this one’s for the kids who didn’t make it, we were the kids who never made it. the overcast girls and the underdog boys. not for the kids who had all their joys. this one’s for the kids who never faked it. we’re the kids who didn’t make it. they say “breaking hearts is what we do best,” and “we’ll make your heart be ripped out of your chest.” the only heart that i broke was mine, when i got my hopes up too high. we were the kids who didn’t make it. we are the kids
who never made it. — Pete Wentz

i decided, very early on, just to accept life unconditionally;
i never expected it to do anything special for me, yet i seemed
to accomplish far more than i had ever hoped. most of the time
it just happened to me without me ever seeking it.

i really wonder why people suddenly change after they get what they wanted. one day they’re sweet, the next day, they’re not. one day they’re here, the next day they’re not. one day you’re important to them, the next day you’re worthless. one day they love you, the next day they don’t care about you. that’s how ironic people and things can be. pretty shits, pretty lies, pretty fucked up. but it’s still your choice. cause you choose to get hurt when you choose to be in love.

Maybe our old wounds teach us something. They remind us where we’ve been and what we’ve overcome. They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That’s what we like to think. But that’s not always the way it is. Sometimes there are things we just have to learn over again.

Congratulations! You’re not perfect! It’s ridiculous to want to be perfect anyway. But then, everybody’s ridiculous sometimes, except perfect people. You know what perfect is? Perfect is not eating or drinking or talking or moving a muscle or making even the teensiest mistake. Perfect is never doing anything wrong – which means never doing anything at all. Perfect is boring! So you’re not perfect! Wonderful! Have fun! Eat things that give you bad breath! Trip over your own shoelaces! Laugh! Let somebody else laugh at you! Perfect people never do any of those things. All they do is sit around and sip weak tea and think about how perfect they are. But they’re really not one-hundred-percent perfect anyway. You should see them when they get the hiccups! Phooey! Who needs ‘em? You can drink pickle juice and imitate gorillas and do silly dances and sing stupid songs and wear funny hats and be as imperfect as you please and still be a good person. Good people are hard to find nowadays. And they’re a lot more fun than perfect people any day of the week.

Am I mad at you? That’s your main concern after shattering my whole world? Mad for what? Breaking my heart? Or for all the lies? Maybe for letting me put all my trust in you only to be betrayed? How about the fact you didn’t even have the decency to tell me to my face? Or the way you think it’s crazy that I’m crying over it cause to you breaking up is no big deal. Am I mad at you?… no. More like crushed… did I ever really know you?

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mending whole was good as new. What is broken is broken – and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

He smiled and as he did it, she was filled with a sudden triumph and a great ecstasy, for she knew then that he was hers, and she loved him, and it was something she had known from the very beginning. She had known that this thing was to happen, that nothing could prevent it; she was part of his body and part of his mind, they belonged to each other, both wanderers, both fugitives, cast in the same mold.

Do you want to know what my problem is? I will tell you what my problem is, I LOVE YOU I love your name, I love the way you look at me, I love your gorgeous smile, I love the way you walk, I love your beautiful eyes, I love what you look like when you are asleep, I love the sound of your laugh, to hear your voice fills my entire heart with an indescribable feeling. I love the way I can be having the worst day of my life and seeing you completely changes my mood. I love how when you touch me I get weak, that is my problem…

Walking through the halls of high schools is quite similar to walking through a battle field… you are never quite sure what you will find lying around the bend… everyone seems to be thinner, taller, blonder, prettier, and tanner than you… they all seem to be having the time of their lives despite the educational setting… they all seem to have the most friends and the most people to say hello to walking through the halls. Well, life isn’t what it seems. Most of those people just surround themselves with others because they are too deathly scared to be alone. They are so scared that they aren’t really friends, they just pretend… because without those people they would be nothing. They hurt just like you do. They notice the imperfections in their own faces as well even though your eyes cannot see them. They notice how the girl next to them is taller and thinner… even though you don’t. Maybe sometimes it’s what you don’t see that makes you more alike than you’ll ever know.

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