Marisa Crane

I’m just a broken person looking for other broken people who may have gotten shards of me stuck in their feet and aren’t too concerned about pulling them out.

The listlessness of it all, the profit off depression, the extinction of an entire species, the chlorinated connections- poisoned just to appear clean.

The Smiths dream into my ear on this lost and lonely morning. I sing along like it is the only prayer I know (forgive me, Mother Mary).

This is not new territory. Stop lights like lullabies write my eulogy.

I lie and tell you I had a dream about you last night, so it makes it more socially acceptable to reach out to someone I haven’t spoken to in years.

Hurricanes are named after people, baby, and I hope you know that falling in love with me will be so much more treacherous than boarding up the windows and waiting for me to pass.

To the people who love you, you are beautiful already. This is not because they’re blind to your shortcomings but because they so clearly see your soul. Your shortcomings then dim by comparison. The people who care about you are willing to let you be imperfect and beautiful, too.

The choice to follow love through to its completion is the choice to seek completion within ourselves. The point at which we shut down on others is the point at which we shut down on life.

I’m not something to butter up and taste when you get bored.

When you make loving others the story of your life, there’s never a final chapter, because the legacy continues. You lend your light to one person, and he or she shines it on another and another and another. And I know for sure that in the final analysis of our lives- when the to-do lists are no more, when the frenzy is finished, when our e-mail inboxes are empty- the only thing that will have any lasting value is whether we’ve loved others and whether they’ve loved us.

Once you have drunk from the water of unconditional love, no other well can satisfy your thirst. The pangs of separation may become so intense that seeking the affection of the Beloved becomes an obsession.

Oh, we’ll be looking for sunlight, or the headlights, ’til our wide eyes burn blind.

I want to be loved while I’m here, and the only way to get love is to give love.

If you love someone set them free. If they come back, they’re yours; if they don’t, they never were.

Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them-we can only love others as much as we love ourselves.

Give the love that you pray for; someone’s been praying to have it.

It is most unwise for people in love to marry.

Treasure the love you receive above all. It will survive long after your good health has vanished.

Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.

When you love someone, you love the person as they are, and not as you’d like them to be.

My heart must be bigger than my brain – blocking it out of all my decisions, so that I cannot think past the way I feel.