“An artist pours their soul on their work that only a few can recognise.”

If it’s yours, you’ll catch it anyhow, if it’s not, you’ll lose it even if you catch it now.

I was seeking you everywhere but found you the day i looked inside my heart.

Our ego wants to understand logic, our soul wants to believe in the unseen.

Even if you two fall apart, carry respect for each other in the softest part of your heart.

When you leave a place, your sillage would fade but your vibes stay.

I have a habit of choosing the roads less travelled, and they think it’s the wrong way just because they took the roads that felt too safe.

Being understood is a luxury for the soul.

My love, you have a heart of gold, it’s precious, beautiful, and bold.

I wish happiness for each soul but much more for those to whom life hasn’t been fair at all.

Let your art reflect your soul.

Time is an illusion, people say but only until you have to match its pace.

Sharing your emotions with paper is so much more comforting than sharing with someone else.

Speak truth whenever possible, it sounds the most poetic.

Even when there’s no one you can rely upon, you’re being guided, protected, and kept safe.

You know they’re a pure soul when it breaks their own heart to break another heart even unintentionally.

Having loved and lost too many people what can I be if not kind?

I work hard. I focus on myself and putting food on my dinner table before anything else. I don’t worry about other artists. Worrying about the next person in a negative way is the wrong way to be.

Social media is so powerful now, and with all these blog sites and YouTube channels and videos, it makes it more and more relevant to bridge artists together.

I would venture to warn against too great intimacy with artists as it is very seductive and a little dangerous.

At the end of the day, I don’t know what makes any artist say what he says. Everyone has a reason for whatever it is they do.

The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is another question.

Even though Prince wasn’t rapping and it was a whole different era, it shows how artists expressed themselves without saying too much, and that was the real beauty of the art.

To be an artist or a writer is to be this weird thing – a hand worker in an era of mass production.

Let not a man do what his sense of right bids him not to do, nor desire what it forbids him to desire. This is sufficient. The skillful artist will not alter his measures for the sake of a stupid workman.