When you committed suicide, you didn’t want something slow. Someone could walk in, someone could save you.
Astrid (White Oleander by Janet Fitch)
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king.
When you committed suicide, you didn’t want something slow. Someone could walk in, someone could save you.
