“Have patience, heart.”

The melancholy joys of evils pass’d, For he who much has suffer’d, much will know.

Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.

A woman is a lot like a refrigerator. Six feet tall, 300 pounds, it makes ice.

I didn’t lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!

How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise!

The journey is its own reward.

Choose well.

Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind.

Empty words are evil.

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

What are the children of men, but as leaves that drop at the wind’s breath?

Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death.

There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible – magic to make the sanest man go mad.

The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.

Men are so quick to blame the gods.

The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.

Lets die. Alone. Like we always do.

Search your heart, search your soul, and when you find me there you’ll search no more.

But are they protection or a cage? These ribs that ensnare my heart so.

We must never say, even in fun, that we are disheartened, because someone might take us at our word.

They tore out my heart and stomped that sucker flat.

And as I gave up the fight to leave the forever in my heart behind, I made friends within the hellfire beast that will always burn a little too close whilst you remain out of reach.

People with hearts filled with love, peace, and compassion live in heaven.

I’m not materialistic. I believe in presents from the heart, like a drawing that a child does.