“And I guess what I am really trying to say, is that I love the way you love me.”

And perhaps the greatest peace of art is in the brush stroke of our suffering.

I am the kind of tired that does not need a bed but rather, hope.

And perhaps the greatest paradox of all is how we stand here, fully wounded yet never more alive.

I don’t mind cloudy days. And how could I? My heart has cloudy days too.

Even the wrong people and the wrong choices can bring us to the right places.

For years I could not cry. And I thought there was something wrong with me. Turns out I was crying after all – just not in tears.

There is a certain kind of light that only comes from having been through a certain kind of darkness.

I will heal and Oh what a day that will be.

I was never meant to be stagnant. I only wanted to grow.

You are only ever as lost as the next step you choose to take.

If they are still standing by your side when your armor is off. When your walls are down. When your heart is broken. And your scars are visible. Tuck them into your arms like gold. And do not let them go.

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

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 think religion has always tried to turn hatred towards gay people. Religion promotes the hatred and spite against gays. But there are so many Christian people I know who are gay and love their religion.

What is love without a little madness.

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.

Its always the quiet ones who love the loudest.

Whether it be a reggae song, rock song, a love song, the main thing was just to, whatever I was feeling, to try to capture that emotion.

I am a hopeless romantic and I love to spoil my girlfriends.

LOVE: A word properly applied to our delight in particular kinds of food; sometimes metaphorically spoken of the favorite objects of all our appetites.

It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.