“It is not the world I fear but what becomes of me; when you disappear so understand it is you I cannot sacrifice with you in my life-I’ll suffice.”

I warned you not to play with matches but you said you loved the heat. Darling, the inferno warms you but it spreads like wildfire. Now, we’re both in ruins.

Even though he is not mine I wish him a heart fully made & even though, to my love he is blind for him my love will never fade.

Tease me over & again, moon over my night a meteor-like allure strike through my heart.

Stay with me in this inferno and together we’ll watch the world burn.

If this should end in fire come, fill this desire.

If you are a painter my love, then I will be your writer.

Tell me about the city you grew up in, how you like to take your tea let me see the world through your eyes; be the muse to my literacy.

In the cold you left me, that is how my love for you came to be.

You shall have all that is in this garden.

I loved you as Icarus loved the sun, too close, too much.

I want a love that meets me half way. A love filled with chivalry as if it were written in old days.

Who am I to write about love when I don’t know the very definition of it, It seems, love itself does not favor me.

In each passing day, I hope I love you less but somehow this love stays and my heart is yours nonetheless.

If I can have what I want then I’d have the stars the moon, the skies and a love where it shines through your eyes.

This spring along with flowers, I hope you bloom as my love has, one season too soon.

For the rest of my life I will stay by his side. A union this world could never divide.

Imagine how weird phones would look if your mouth was nowhere near your ears.

On the other hand, you have different fingers.

It’s scary to imagine yourself failing. But I do know that in Bollywood, every Friday changes your destiny, and unfortunately, every Friday also changes the way people look at you.

It’s not the size of the nose that matters, it’s what’s inside that counts.

The magic that lives in being loved for who you are in the shadows, not just for how you appear in the light.

Oh my God, so many young girls now look like whores!

Let’s jump in the rabbit hole, ditch our fears, and watch, like magic, how strength appears.

A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defense of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason.