“Anger makes you vulnerable, It slowdowns the mind and make us slip our tongues often.”

Silent hearts carrying pain quietly are likely to make thunders cry loud.

The journey of fire begins, survives and ends with air.

Stay peaceful until your inner conflicts turn into a war with someone.

All I want for christmas is your warmth, near the firing woods. Cuddling on the chair, swinging in merry times, forgetting our bad lies.

There is magic in this universe. I don’t know how often do you believe in it, or you do not at all. But if you do not, then this is for you to know, that your very existence is magic in itself.

I have been confused with many pretty smiles earlier but your canines hit me differently.

I don’t want to show my body to the ones, who often close their eyes, when it’s time to praise the beauty of my mind and soul.

Any day can be Monday when you choose to start right.

Do not insist me to let you go, you come half hearted like a crescent moon, and you go heart-filled like a full moon which glows.

It is hard holding a spot in your body that doesn’t want you.

I chose myself today, not over you. I can never do that, and you know that well. I just chose the new me over my past self.

The believe you carry in yourself is what makes you unbelievable for others.

When you let me touch your skin, I can feel your pain. What joy you get in keeping me away?

Entangle me, into your talkative eyes. Let me breathe in, your breath often. For I’m tired of floating, in the shallow waters, when I want to get choked.

Sometimes its suffocating by being surrounded with happiness and not being able to feel it.

Sometimes, I feel sorry for you. I’m not there to hold you, and this clouded sky do not let you talk to the moon.

I read one psychologist’s theory that said, “Never strike a child in your anger.” When could I strike him? When he is kissing me on my birthday? When he’s recuperating from measles? Do I slap the Bible out of his hand on Sunday?

Lord, grant that anger or other bitterness does not reign over us, but that your grace, genuine kindness, loyalty, and every kind of friendliness, generosity, and gentleness may reign in us. Amen

Your anger can be 49 percent and your comedy 51 percent, and you’re okay. If the anger is 51 percent, the comedy is gone.

I’m not the kind of guy who wakes up angry.

To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves.

The poor suffer twice at the rioter’s hands. First, his destructive fury scars their neighborhood; second, the atmosphere of accommodation and consent is changed to one of hostility and resentment.

Getting angry doesn’t solve anything.

Why getting angry? Getting angry doesn’t solve anything. I don’t like yelling and fighting and I can’t quarrel, I prefer to let it drop. When people use disagreeable words, I feel crushed and remember them for a long time.