“My soul and the moon are night time lovers.”

Don’t compare her to sunshine and roses when she’s clearly orchids and moonlight.

I have wolf blood and wolf bones. Don’t expect me to graze with sheep.

I do not trust anyone who hides in the light and denies darkness exists.

When the world is too much create your own. I do it every day.

Meet me under the moon so we can chase stars together.

Still refining, staying wild, always growing and evolving

She has the intuition of an angel and fire like a dragon.

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

You want war. I want love. That’s the difference between your heart and mine.

French press me against the wall and coffee and of course French kiss.

Arouse me mentally so I can feel you spiritually then when we touch physically we’ll fall in sync soulfully.

You deserve the kind of love that understands your gestures, your eyes, your silence.

I am inspired by many, but I’m in competition with myself.

Save the drama for the queens. Be a wolf.

I’m not a box kind of gal, so stop trying to make me fit in one.

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

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.

Love is never any better than the lover.

All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else.

Two there are who are never satisfied – the lover of the world and the lover of knowledge.

The role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover. If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.

People can’t, unhappily, invent their mooring posts, their lovers and their friends, anymore than they can invent their parents.

I’m a lover not a fighter.

There are three classes of men; lovers of wisdom, lovers of honor, and lovers of gain.