“If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.”

Wish I could be a fragile piece of glass to accept my brokenness.

If we are the trees, words are our roots; and we grow as we write.

A moment’s beginning ends in a moment

Protect your dreams from your nightmare.

Being empty makes me whole sometimes. I wonder if every hollow hole has its own solidity of fulfillment.

Patience is to wait for the ice to melt instead of breaking it.

You don’t need to be the tide to rise and fall, you don’t have to be a wave to touch the shore; just be a little sand-grain and feel them all.

When reality hurts, make sure to soar above the dream-stained sky!

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night’s black spell on darkness, beguiling.

Spring is the fountain of love for thirsty winter.

Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them.

You don’t need a sad soul to feel the beauty of a dead grave, Just stay with the pale moon when darkness wants the night to be brave.

Where in the world would a star be without the love of the sky?

Take me to ‘nowhere’ when distance belongs here, there, everywhere.

Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.

When you run out of love, it’s really hard to understand whether you have lost your heart or your heart has lost you.

Paper and pen petrify me, for they pierce right through me, drawing deep blue blood, leaving me utterly cold.

The outer part of me so cold like an armor impenetrable. The words you throw at me ricochet and hit you in the heart.

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.

And she is going to dance, dance hungry, dance full, dance each cold astonishing moment, now when she is young and again when she is old.

I love how British guys dress for the cold.

It’s january, it’s cold and I search the sky for summer like I always do.

Cold hearts cannot serve warm love.

When the air begins to turn colder, a warmth grows in my core that says – it’s time to start new.