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

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.

When darkness came, and it did, I learned that I can scream at the top of my lungs without making any sound at all.

The opposite of growing isn’t being saved. Its finding peace.

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

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

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

Light is much more than the absence of darkness. And you, my love, are much more than the absence of him.

You told me everything would be okay. I wish you had said – you’ll hurt but I’ll hold you.

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

I do not regret the mistakes that I’ve made. But the freedom I gave them to haunt me.

Sometimes the weak carry the weak. Not because they have the strength but simply because they know the way.

The artist shall never run out of paint. Because the artist, my love, never runs out of pain.

You can’t be afraid of a little rain when you invite the storm in for a cup of coffee.

I breathe him in so deep that when he is gone I exhale and taste him again.

Hug me like the wind does healing my heart, calming my soul, while it wraps every inch of me. Caressing my hair, it gives me goosebumps, as it whispers something that takes my breath away.

I’ve got to keep breathing. It’ll be my worst business mistake if I don’t.

Every breath we draw is a gift of God’s love; every moment of existence is a grace.

When you learn to navigate and manage your breath, you can navigate any situation in life.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

The length and breath of our influence on others are directly related to the depth of our concern for them.

Never. Till my last breath I will work. To retire there is only one place- the cremation ground.