“Even when the blood in my veins is the same as them, every cell in my body is against becoming like them. What a curse it is to hate the very thing that birth you.”

But hopes are just dreams and not all dreams come true. So I hope of you, knowing very well that you could never come true.

Look into my eyes and tell me I a matter. Then in my eyes see how it’s always been you who matters.

There is so much rain in my heart and yet it feels so empty. Then I remember, for flowers to grow, you need sunshine too.

The cold consumes me. The oceans in my eyes freeze. It’s 2 AM and I can’t move. Your loss is too much to bear.

This soul of yours has lived a million lives before you. Listen to it, believe in it. It knows the way, it has seen it all.

There is freedom in loneliness. A kind of freedom that hurts. The kind you wish you never had.

Is it a boon or curse I wonder; to feel another’s pain so much to consider it my own? To moan another’s funeral as if it were my own?

I had a playlist of his name. Of songs he would send me now and then. Now every song I hear is a ghost of him. A reminder that he is here. But he is not.

How does it feel to have everything and still suffer from the lack of it? I have all the love in me, but without yours it means nothing at all.

The ache in my bones have owned me all my life. Your love is finally setting me free.

They say body is nothing but the dress for the soul. So does this mean all my pain and all my tragedies are now tattoos on my soul?

The Love in your eyes will forever hold a glimpse of me.

The greatest longing I will ever have, is for the love I always deserved but never received.

For without tragedies there is no life & what is life if not all our tragedies put together?

If your eyes could speak what stories would it tell? Would it even be able to speak or would it end up choking on all the water?

This ocean of love swallowed my paper heart whole.

Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.

Are you native to the land you are spilling blood on?

I thought marriage was tough. Golf’s like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel! It’s a psychological game that gets into your blood.

Acting runs through my blood. There is some sort of creative desire to express myself and I would need that outlet. Otherwise I would be a nightmare to live with.

A fan had written my name on his chest with blood once. That was not just crazy but scary, too!

They call her my singer – because her blood sings for me.

I’ve drank more beer and pissed more blood and banged more women than all you numb nuts put together!

Democracy is in the blood of Musalmans, who look upon complete equality of manhood [mankind] and believe in fraternity, equality and liberty.