“I was the storm you could never silence, nor wish away.”

I do not write. My lungs just breathe in words.

What it all comes down to either way, is if you are ready.

I will tremble. But that is not to say I am not brave.

I don’t like to be called strong. I am just a weak with a side of faith.

I would rather have peaceful isolation than divided freedom. Read that again.

These times are wild but so are we.

I never loved you because you had it all together. I loved you because you were falling apart and still saw fit to let me into your world.

I am not the kind of lost that needs finding. I am the kind of lost that needs healing.

I learned the hard way that not everything in life was meant to be beautiful.

I wasn’t running away from you. I was running towards myself.

An empath does not sleep. She listens to the wind and wonders if its crying.

Maybe we needed a storm, to miss the peace a little. Maybe we needed the shadows, to remember our beautiful light.

If you only stand for something until it gets uncomfortable, then you never really stood at all.

You are the only song I know all the words to.

How tremendously brave to be shattered in a way that makes stained-glass windows from the pain.

Healing and the resentment cannot live in the same body. One must suffocate to let the other survive.

My meditation is simple. It does not require any complex practices. It is simple. It is singing. It is dancing. It is sitting silently.

Silence is better than unmeaning words.

Meditate so that you can feel immense silence, and love so that your life can become a song, a dance, a celebration.

Nature’s silence is its one remark, and every flake of world is a chip off that old mute and immutable block.

There shall never be another season of silence until women have the same rights men have on this green earth.

The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

Work hard in silence, let success be your noise.

Work hard in silence, let success be your noise.