H. Raven Rose Quotes & Sayings

Oh, my god. My non-committal boyfriend, who I was just fucking this morning, that I want to spend the rest of my life with, is your Mr. Wonderful. He's your 'nice,' mystery man. Jesus. — H. Raven Rose

It hadn't ever been on the table. Commitment had never been an option. There was never any love. — H. Raven Rose

I hope that I capture something in my work that is about the elusive, the magical and powerful and the transformative. The writing in itself is transformative for me. — H. Raven Rose

Leila dreamt that her Soul was on fire. It was not a nightmare. Shannon was in the dream. Shannon was telling her to wake up. She woke up, burning as if she had a fever, nearly soaking wet with sweat. Kevin was asleep beside her. — H. Raven Rose

Everything was illuminated. Everything was connected. Everything was one. Everything was love. — H. Raven Rose

Oh, my god, he thought, realizing why he had always felt negatively towards Eden. She reminds me of my mother. The thought made his throat close up tight. He mused about the day's events. What a ride. Edward had surprised him. The man had courage, committing to love. What had he said to that starlet, none of it meant anything? — H. Raven Rose

She held herself until the sobs of the child inside subsided entirely. I love you, she told herself. It will all be okay. — H. Raven Rose

I write because I am a writer, not because I want to get anything out of it. — H. Raven Rose

Life
luscious wet life bereft of
death, loss of empty shell
minus absent of nothing
exploding star cell
amoeba sweet algae
oxygen,
hydrogen flowering
in the vacuum of
space and magnetic motion. — H. Raven Rose

The full moon cast an eerie glow through thick ancient dark woods. In the shadows around a tree, the serial killer ran his knife lovingly over Chelsea's trussed dead body. She lay, as if posed for a photo, wearing only bloody pink underpants. — H. Raven Rose

Writing isn't difficult. Writing well is difficult. What is most difficult is being with the interior experience that manifests as resistance to writing. — H. Raven Rose

Be in your own skin, as an act of self-loving. — H. Raven Rose

Samantha reminds me of the difference between what is illusion and what is real. I am reminded whenever I forget that we choose our truth and whether to embrace it or not. — H. Raven Rose

When do we get to the part where I get inspired by this wonder boy and my seriously bitchy attitude toward men is miraculously healed? — H. Raven Rose

This is your karma. You do not understand now, but you will understand later. The source of pain is within your own larger expression of being. — H. Raven Rose

You are so sweet. This is unbelievable. Some schmo talks to you every two weeks, buys you a meal, during which he talks about himself, dry-humps you, touches your hand once and you think he smells like roses. Maybe he is a white knight on a steed, who will carry you off into the future, so you can live happily ever after and, finally, maybe get it on. — H. Raven Rose