“She was strong enough to be gentle all the time.”

Perfection is just a lie, failure’s not forever, rejection is but a sign, darling you are a treasure.

It is not a coincidence that the strongest people tend to have the most scars.

She’s like a stiff drink I can’t get enough of, the first real obsession I can’t help but love.

She had eyes that held you better than arms ever could.

But she’s not like the others; that’s where you made your first mistake.

Sometimes, all it takes to connect with someone is a little bit of the same hurt.

All I want is to bring you the love and the joy that matches all the pain you have ever felt.

Don’t judge her if she’s lived under circumstances you have not.

Darling, you have lived far too much life to be caring what others think of you.

Not all wounds need healing, not all scars are ugly.

Just because she carries it well doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy.

It takes courage to feel, and she’s the bravest person I know.

Careful with this one. She had dethroned kings.

She has every reason to be bitter, and yet her heart beats to the tune of kindness, and her soul dances to the melody of love.

I’m sorry if someone made you feel as though you are difficult to love.

But doesn’t it hurt to feel so much and pretend not to?

It is a gentle and affectionate thought, that in immeasurable height above us, at our first birth, the wreath of love was woven with sparkling stars for flowers.

Warriorship is so tender, without skin, without tissue, naked and raw. It is soft and gentle. You have renounced putting on a new suit of armor. You have renounced growing a thick, hard skin. You are willing to expose naked flesh, bone and marrow to the world.

In the garden of gentle sanity, May you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness.

Make your educational laws strict and your criminal ones can be gentle; but if you leave youth its liberty you will have to dig dungeons for ages.

You cross me, I’m going to hurt you. But I’m really very gentle.

No man or woman of the humblest sort can really be strong, gentle and good, without the world being better for it, without somebody being helped and comforted by the very existence of that goodness.

Finally he closed the distance between us and kissed me – a sweet, gentle kiss that held within it every single one of the thousand days I’d loved him as my everything, long after I’d begun to love him as a friend.

God breathes through us so completely, So gently we hardly feel it, yet it is our everything.