Grab tightly to the reigns of passion and ride into glory for without it life would be stagnant, and you would be a spirit without cause.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Has it tortured you as much as it's tortured me?" He asked. "Don't call it torture when it's self-inflicted. You always have a choice.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Hate. The word is thrown around as uselessly and as often as love is, and is used as a means in which to accuse and inflict damage; the weak-in-argument (weak in general) use it to discredit those with whom they disagree rather than dissect the issues for what they really are. I liken it to the predictable ad hominem attack, which is about as transparent as those who so ridiculously claim to know what’s in the heart of another.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Hatred may keep a body warm, but it takes a lot to keep the fire stoked, so unless a person is extraordinary in some way, some people are not worth hating, just like they’re not worth loving.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Have you seen what wolves do to their prey? But they do mate for life.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Heart thoughts are profound, hindsight aches and hope is obscure. I'm craving a great adventure -- one that leads me back home.

— Donna Lynn Hope

He had felt viable being near her or knowing she was listening to him or having the comfort of their casual meeting within a dream. With her, he simply and effortlessly felt better. They all felt better, unburdened, cared for, and heard. Being connected to her eased his suffering as he gave her his. It was only when she began to drown in the simulation of commingled torments that to save whatever part of her was left, she disconnected, and when she did, his suffering returned and remained with him longer than she had. But instead of saving herself, it was the additional burden of her own anguish from letting them all go that took her breath and inevitably pulled her under.

— Donna Lynn Hope

He passed through her with his soul caressing hers goodbye. And in that final hour he was with her one last time.

— Donna Lynn Hope

Her scar tissue, which she seems to amass both physically and mentally, may not be pretty, but they have become tougher than if she had never been wounded at all.

— Donna Lynn Hope

He studied the woman before him, not as lovely as she once was, ordinary in appearance, scarred by living, abandoned by many, breathtakingly to be near and altogether unforgettable. "I have no friends," she spoke forth hauntingly. "I am alone." He couldn't believe it. But then he could for the rare creature near enough to touch was out of their league. She wasn't envied for the shallowness of appearance or the superficiality of status or possessions; she was envied for being uncommon and for possessing indomitable strength, something only a lifetime of suffering could shape.

— Donna Lynn Hope