Best 4 quotes of Mel Ingrid on MyQuotes

And. They. Burned. Like. A. Million. Bonfires.

His mental disorder was not beautiful. It was not an attention-driven kamikaze mission. It was not a plea for sympathy.

It unwound like a coil of string in his chest and he could feel it spreading to his fingertips, the dryness of his bones, the warmth of his blood. For nearly a decade, no one knew how much it hurt to be him.

You curse and spit, kicking me, shaking me, begging me for one more sweet. I give it to you. It’s not the flavor you wanted.