“About pain; maybe it will hit you when you think about what will happen if you just stay a little longer.”

I’ve always wanted to tell you – all my life how much I wished to have a home with someone who’s always praying for me.

When was the first time you fell in love? When I started writing about beautiful things.

I thank my old self who chose to be brave, how he believed there would be so much in front of me, and by all that, he was ready to face growth.

When I met you, I suddenly became a person who can never love anyone else again.

Maybe he is a one kind of a poem in a form of a body.

You’ve had love all along.

My longing is to have you back. Your body, your soul all at once.

I want love to be my sanctuary. The place I dwell when I am weak.

With the right person, everything will always be okay. Even if it is difficult, you never have a question about it. You just patiently there and wait, because you know the answer for the best.

Let this now be the time, to give thanks even to a small thing that keeps you alive.

When I look at you, I am home.

Treat the ones you love most the very best.

I hope you find someone who makes you feel so at home, even with just their voice.

What I admire about love is that, even in its weakness, it still wishes you well.

Love is many things. But your love is my favorite.

I believe that if you tell me I am enough, I am enough.

I know the world gave you too much pain, but do not inflict it further on others.

The pain wasn’t bad if you were able to make some growth out of it.

Happiness is an inside job, let your pain play its role.

It don’t last forever, the pain. Realize that tomorrow is coming. Move further from this pain and this stress.

Pain is only bearable if we know it will end, not if we deny it exists.

My pain may be the reason for somebody’s laugh. But my laugh must never be the reason for somebody’s pain.

Never be ashamed of expressing how you feel; being ashamed of emotional pain is as outlandish as being ashamed of shoulder pain. Your emotions are your truth; they are internal experiences that belong to you and no one has the right to criticize them.

It is not death or pain that is to be dreaded, but the fear of pain or death.