“We will grieve and we will rise.”

There is no time more precious than this moment.

You smell like a new morning after a night of rainfall.

Faith. The one thing stronger than magic.

The refusal to change isn’t your invitation to stop.

Be a gentle heart in a world of aggression.

There is nothing more beautiful than the love you hold for others.

I refuse to apologize for my feminity.

When people are cruel, we can join them in their poison or find freedom in love.

There is nothing more extravagant than a generous heart.

I’m terrified to step into my worth, for it just may change my life.

A decision should be made because it aligns with your soul. Not culture.

The moon, our mother. The stars, her children.

I didn’t lose. I won a new beginning.

Be not attached to who you think you are. So you can believe all that you are meant to be.

Being kind doesn’t mean you are a pushover. Don’t let them convince you otherwise.

You don’t have to be someone else to be loved.

Let our opportunities overshadow our grievances.

Somehow in all this grief I found joy. Sharing art with you has made me whole again. And again.

I waited, quietly listened, cupped my ear to your mouth, but silence echoed grievously in the absence of sound. It was only warm breath and then emptiness.

Preying on the grievances of disaffected young men is the bedrock of Islamism.

Wound to wisdom, pain to power. A seed of grief, now time to flower.

My arms grieve a love that took shape in the form of you.

It is stupid to grieve for the loss of a girl friend: you might never have met her, so you can do without her.

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing that is a friend who cares.