Words worth keeping

I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia.

Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess.

In time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong, I'd write you another letter. But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer. I didn't ever want to lose that.

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.

Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.

Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?� I say.“I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,� he says.“You should wake me,� I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.“It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,� he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Come sleep with me: We won't make Love, Love will make us.

The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.

I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone's hand.

It is easy to love people in memory; the hard thing is to love them when they are there in front of you.

I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.

You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.

Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.