ledaney conroy

“There had been too much emotion, too much damage, too much of everything.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden

“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.”
― Claude Monet

“It was over. We had once again succeeded in destroying what we could not create.”
― Stephen King, The Green Mile

“Okay,” he said. “I gotta go to sleep. It’s almost one.” 
“Okay,” I said.
 “Okay,” he said. 
I giggled and said, “Okay.” And then the line was quiet but not dead. I almost felt like he was there in my room with me, but in a way it was better, like I was not in my room and he was not in his, but instead we were together in some invisible and tenuous third space that could only be visited on the phone. “Okay,” he said after forever. “Maybe okay will be our always.”
 “Okay,” I said.
 It was Augustus who finally hung up.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars