“I fell like the rain on a perfectly sunny afternoon. It rushed over me out of nowhere. It opened up the skies.”

There are things that I don’t say out loud. And so they just live in the roots of my soul.

Its okay to have high standards. You deserve exactly what you want.

Whats so poetically beautiful about my world now, is that its finally mine.

She brought the kind of light that was similar to the sun right after it rains.

I hope hearing my name makes you break. Not all at once, but little by little.

Mark my words. Memories of me will haunt you when you sleep at night. No one forgets a love like mine.

You were the type of person who would put bandaid over a knife wound, and casually as if I was okay.

I knew he could be my North Star when he made me feel something after being numb for so long.

Sometimes its easier to focus on the pain you’ve felt. Instead, think of the strength you’ve gained.

She decided to name the stars. And as each one fell from the sky, her body got warmer. Her heart opened.

Jump. See whose at the bottom when you land on your feet.

Like deep water, she was silent. His lips tasted of salt. He was both addicting and bitter all at once.

I’m choosing to build castle out of the things that nearly destroy me.

I found him in all the chaos, and that was when my world started making sense again.

She’s got a glow about her. The kind that says- She’s been through some dark pain, but she’s lighting her own way now.

There is something poetic about the way she floats when she walks now.

When you finally accept that it’s OK not to have answers and it’s OK not to be perfect, you realize that feeling confused is a normal part of what it is to be a human being.

I’m not perfect. I’m not polished.

Exalt your passion by directing and settling it upon an object the due con-templation of whose loveliness may cure perfectly all hurts received from mortal beauty.

On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.

He that said it was not good for man to be alone, placed the celibate amongst the inferior states of perfection.

The perfect knowledge of events cannot be acquired without divine inspiration, since all prophetic inspiration receives its prime motivating force from God the creator, then from good fortune and nature.

Fame is a pearl many dive for and only a few bring up. Even when they do, it is not perfect, and they sigh for more, and lose better things in struggling for them.

I always told everybody the perfect joke would be where the setup and punch line were identical.