“Yes, there are wounds but we are not conquered.”

Even the rain could be the answer to your prayers.

You and that love you carry. Like fresh rivers. Like new poetry.

We are ever blossoming.

Some days each breath just lie stuck in your chest, you know?

Love shouldn’t be as fickle as the rain. But an ever flowing torrent.

Remember forgiveness; a kind exhale.

I think there is miracle always spilling into something.

I know the light, but I cannot see it.

Let us be the impossible.

Honestly, I just want to love without the fear of losing anything.

When you hold my hand and it feels like a fresh dream.

There is always a bit of love whispering from somewhere.

But when has worry ever produced a miracle?

But I must admit. I am desperate for hope.

Tell me, what is hope if not a sweet, sweet companion?

Falling apart to fall together again.

Doo-wop is special music to me because it’s so straightforward and melody-driven and captures emotions.

Whether it be a reggae song, rock song, a love song, the main thing was just to, whatever I was feeling, to try to capture that emotion.

Everything is good as long as it is unpossessed. Satiety and possession are Death’s horses they run in span.

You can’t compare one tournament with another.

A ruler wishing to win should not trust a captured enemy even if he may be extending had to be friend. Because deep rooted enmity, however, concealed, will surely come to light.

Even a captured enemy is not to be trusted.

The one who is [truly] imprisoned is the one whose heart is imprisoned from Allah and the captivated one is the one whose desires have enslaved him.

Imprisoned is he whose heart is imprisoned from Allâh. Captured is he who is captured by his desires.