“Are you like me? Do you give too much, too quickly? Do you throw yourself blindly at the world, thinking that it will always open its arms up to you?”

Searching for the one thing, that would set my sad soul free.

In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.

You talk to me in riddles, I will answer you in rhyme. I loved you for a little- I will love you for all time.

I’m the one having to pander to you. I’m sick of being the one doing all the chasing. I’m not asking you to make me a priority – I know you’ve got a lot going on. But at least meet me halfway.

He gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.

Remember, your words are your power. Never forget your words.

I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them.

That’s the thing about happiness. It doesn’t require justification.

My indecision. I wanted everything because I didn’t want anything enough.

My heart is like a time capsule-it keeps safe the memory of you. I know it’s harder with you gone than if you had never been here at all-but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel the constant need to explain myself. I don’t want to live in a world like that either.

I have always thought of memories as fragments, like colored glass shards in a kaleidoscope. It is the source of great beauty in our lives, yet the cause of such heartache. It remains the bridge between our past and present – it gives weight and dimension to our very existence.

I missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.

There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn’t one of them.

I can’t believe how hard it is. The pain is indescribable. It’s like I’ve been turned into sandstone and my insides are being slowly hollowed out by a chisel and mallet.

In the wrong hands, your past is a weapon.

A fool can throw a stone in a pond that 100 wise men can not get out.

I will never say ‘retired’ because that’s such a finality that I don’t want to be part of my life. I’ll work until they throw me in a box.

I don’t think you get successful to brag and throw what you have in the world’s face. That’s all private.

You do the best you can with what’s thrown at you, then you try again.

In the olden days, the umpire didn’t have to take any courses in mind reading. The pitcher told you he was going to throw at you.

Throw a stick, and the servile dog wheezes and pants and shambles to bring it to you. Do the same before a cat, and he will eye you with coolly polite and somewhat bored amusement.

One of the easiest shots in golf is chipping. It should be the easiest. It’s like throwing a ball or pitching pennies. It’s easy. And I struggle with that, and the struggle is all mental.

Everybody asks if putting is like shooting free throws. It has a very similar kind of mindset. And it’s just you, the ball, and the target.