“Hands are no longer hands. They are caresses. Mouths are no longer mouths. They are kisses. My name is no longer a name, it is a call. And love is no longer love – love is you.”

Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met? No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.

Before I fell in live with words, with setting skies and singing birds – it was you I fell in love with first.

Your first love isn’t the first person you give your heart to- it’s the first one who breaks it.

Strange how it mattered so much, when now it matters so little.

Like time suspended, a wound unmended – you and I. We had no ending, no said goodbye; For all my life, I’ll wonder why.

I was there in your forgetting, until I was forgot.

For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.

She was the book that was not written. The sentence that was not scripted. She was the word you wished you could have said.

Knowing sleep will set it right – if you were not to wake.

I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I’m sorry I haven’t told you in so long. But please don’t think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.

Have you ever loved a rose, and bled against her thorns; and swear each night to let her go, then love her more by dawn.

In time she will learn, not to miss them.

When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am and we just are.

It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

The briefest moment shared with you-the longest on my mind.

I don’t know how you are so familiar to me-or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before-in another time, a different place, some other existence.

Emptiness is only a disguise for an intimacy of God’s, that God’s silence, the eerie stillness, is filled by the Word without words, by Him who is above all names, by Him who is all in all. And his silence is telling us that He is here.

I want to put my name in history. I love history.

The worst thing to call somebody is crazy. It’s dismissive.

Fury made a name for himself in America, and as a fighter, you have to establish yourself there, first and foremost, to be known worldwide.

I’ve painted stars around tears that I’ve cried. And now my pain is a galaxy and every star has a name and every name feels like pain and you’re every star.

I want to do films and have my name mentioned next to Wes Anderson and Quentin Tarantino. I don’t want my name mentioned next to other rappers at all.

I have a dog. It’s an English mastiff called Dolly. Her middle name is Poppy.

Once I learned about grassroots organizing, I got so enamored with it because I thought ‘Wow this is the way you do it!’