“Why fight against the current if I would only drown in it?”

May I stay soft and delicate in this world meant to draw out the brute in me.

Keep your heart open. That someone is going to find you.

Read me gently and unhurriedly. Please. My pages crumble at your slightest touch.

There is magic to be found on the road less traveled.

And then when you are ready, take off your armor and show me your scars.

I am sorry for wounding you with my sharp edges before taking pain to refine and mend yourself.

Thank you for still being there for yourself. For being strong. For being resilient. Keep going.

When the dust has settled, turn off the revving, restless engine inside you.

How would I know if he’s going to be a good husband or not? Watch closely how he treats his mother.

I am powerless in silencing the deafening thunder in my heart.

Someone once told me, wherever you are, whatever you do, always keep on upgrading yourself.

Your faults are your wounds. And I don’t feel any anger at all. What I feel, is compassion.

Go where you are celebrated, somewhere where the sun you carry in you will be seen and fully embraced by those who recognize it.

I will not allow myself to lose the child in me.

What a sight of storm you are as a lie beside me in your deep, peaceful slumber.

Love, grief, and the complexity of being human are the driving forces for every artistic revolution.

Our minds are susceptible to the influence of external voices telling us what we require to be satisfied, voices that may drown out the faint sounds emitted by our souls and distract us from the careful, arduous task of accurately naming our priorities.

When you love, I hope you don’t sail. I hope you drown.

A fish that is in the water has no choice that he is. Genius would have it that we swim in sand. We are fish and we drown.

Let’s hold hands until the stars drown.

The night comes, and I’m drowned by my thoughts.

You will not drown the truth in seas of blood.

I’m drowning in papers.

You satisfied your thirst as I drowned.