At last I perceive that in revolutions the supreme power rests with the most abandoned.

— Georges Jacques Danton

You are not abandoned until you feel that you are! - On Being Abandoned.

— Lamine Pearlheart

Night has settled over Paris.The streets have cleared of the crowds, and the city has been lit up. I set my book down, deciding to go for a walk. The Eiffel Tower is only a few blocks away. Now that there aren't many people out, I can walk there without having to fight my way through mobs of gawking tourists.

— Ashley Earley

He drinks his coffee tentatively, glancing at me every few seconds, watching me. Every time he glances in my direction, I quickly turn away though he obviously knows I'm watching him. I know he's wondering why I'm staring at him, but he doesn't ask.I finally take a sip of coffee, set the mug back on the table, and voice what's on my mind, 'I want to draw you.

— Ashley Earley

With God, being lost is nothing more than an idea that never has and never will be anything more than an idea.

— Craig D. Lounsbrough

Shelly shook her head and made sure she had plenty of space so that she wouldn’t hit anything. As many times before, she kept the hoop close to her waist and then twirled it with small, tight bursts of speed. As the hoop gathered in momentum it started to give off a hum that soon took on a light blue illumination far brighter than the streetlamps. It was so bright, that it lit up the entire backyard.

— Nathan Reese Maher

I'm being pulled under - father and farther from the surface. My lungs continue to scream for air. Panic is building inside me, threatening to combust. I can't break free.Help! I can't break free!I open my mouth to scream.

— Ashley Earley

Patches don’t look it, but when attached to your soul they can get pretty heavy. They go over the holes in your soul, like when you patch a sock. When you have a hole in your soul, it’s because you’re hurting from something. I don’t know if you noticed, but that girl had a lot of holes.

— Nathan Reese Maher

When someone you loved finds no flattery in the gift you gave them then you must ask yourself, 'What was worth loving?

— Shannon L. Alder

A poem is never finished, only abandoned.

— Paul Valery