“Don’t try taming me, I’ll end up growing spikes on my wings and fangs in my mouth.”

It’s her black wings that make her beautiful.

I was born to chase peace and love wild things. I was born a beautiful bohemian paradox.

The world needs more fierce warriors who are soft and kind.

He is the sun melting the snow in my heart.

I know a beautiful soul when I feel one. The empath in me honors the authentic in you.

Once our souls collided and caught fire, there was no turning back.

She was the night, in love with the stars, always chasing the moon.

Words alone mean little. Show me your eyes; that’s where I’ll decipher your truth from your lies.

Undress my soul one petal at a time.

She can be dainty and still have claws. She can be sweet and still make fire. That’s her magic.

I think my soul was born with wings; it’s always restless, it won’t sit still.

When I told you to ruin me I wasn’t referring to my heart.

My soul is wild but my heart is loyal and true.

Some people help you see the world differently, those are my kind of people.

I have no room for monsters and cowards claiming to be something they’re not, who lie to get what they want.

Don’t want a complicated love. Just want you to grab my demons, kiss my madness and run away with me.

Don’t feed yourself up with personal growth tips when you are not ready for it.

The only kind of love that helps anyone grow is unconditional love.

That’s how we build the economy of the future. An economy with more jobs and less debt, we root it in fairness. We grow it with opportunity. And we build it together.

Stand up! Keep your backs straight! Remember that this is where the wings grow.

Business is all about learning to balance the short-term, medium-term and long-term and I think it’s when things are going well it covers up a lot of mistakes and bad decisions because you’re growing so quickly.

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

We grow by being present, not by being perfection.

We’ll grow old waiting.