“Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!”

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there; not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.

He was attached by ties stronger than reason could break — chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen.

I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?

Time brought resignation and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world’s tide is bearing me along; Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.

May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.

She burned too bright for this world.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?

I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.

Don’t go looking at me like that because you’ll wear your eyes out.

Looking back in front of me, in the mirror a grin. Through eyes of love I see, I’m only looking at a friend.

I’m not handsome in the classical sense. The eyes droop, the mouth is crooked, the teeth aren’t straight, the voice sounds like a Mafioso pallbearer, but somehow it all works.

My eyes have always been open, but I see best with my heart.

Depression is the way my eyes have learnt how to close more than open.

As my heart began to melt this is what your Emerald eyes do to me.

O Allah, You know that the only thing I want in this life Is to be obedient to Your command. Even the living sight of my eyes Is service at your court

A Minor is one of my all-time favorite keys to play in. It’s a very moody key, and also ‘A’ is the first letter of my name. It just represents the songs through my eyes.