“Summer was felt a little more; in autumn I began to fall. When winter came with all its white, you were mine to kiss goodnight.”

The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of love.

You only get one chance to fall in love with your heart still whole.

We were born to walk this world in intersecting lines.

Somehow, there is a sense of comfort in knowing nothing will ever hit me quite as hard again. Nothing will ever be as beautiful, but neither will anything hurt as much.

I was coming to the end of a difficult period in my life, though when the end isn’t in plain sight, you don’t realize how close you are.

Some days it felt like a burden, to smile for you. To keep the lines of worry from etching into your forehead.

Life has a way of working itself out. You’ll see.

Maybe we slip in and out of alternate worlds through our minds and our imaginations, picking up scar tissue from other dimensions.

We spoke once about lovers who kept finding each other, no matter how many times the world came between them. And I think I had to break your heart, and you had to break mine. How else could we know the worth of what we were given?

You’re young and there’s still so much ahead. So much uncertainty and doubt. It keeps you up at night-this wild, restless feeling. But you don’t know how free you are. For this short, miraculous time, you have no one to answer to, nothing to lose. You belong wholly to yourself.

I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.

The time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.

Loving you is like being ten years old again, scaling a tree with my eyes bright and skyward, wanting only to get higher and higher, without a thought of how I would get back down.

But when I look at you, I just know instinctively, that despite the odds against you and although life will always find a way to test you, someday you’ll have everything you want. Your ending will be a happy one.

You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.

There are days when the melancholy settles on you like a sudden change in weather. The kind of sadness that is intangible. Like the presence of an ache where you can’t pinpoint exactly where it hurts, you just know it does.

In heaven it is always autumn.

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.

There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!

I am a child of autumn: At home amongst things that only know of falling.