“We have to be strong, for the ones that came before us, and the ones who are yet to come.”

The longer you sit in the field, forcing fragile stalks together, the more you value the loops, the links that stay. And the less you miss the ones that snap and blow away.

Even when your tears have soaked through the last pages of your book, the sun will dry them and illuminate every word of your story.

So keep rowing against the current, no one ever made an epic voyage through smooth sailing.

You lit a flame in me that could start wildfires.

I pined for the whole of you, but all I ever got was half. I waited and gave you twice of me-yet still it wasn’t enough.

The silence was broken with the music of your pain, but with every note i could see a part of you healing.

Whiskey lips and sunset trips to places we always spoke of, wind in hair we had no care for what tomorrow was made of.

I believed in the magic we made, but you were the magician and i was merely your puppet on stage.

Why not accept your beautiful mess? and care a little less?

Some of us will touch the sky, others will cradle the moon and some will enter a whole new galaxy. What a fortune.

The trauma, lies and pain, you chose to forget, are the ingredients for the greatest triumphs yet.

Undo the buttons that close the fabric of my heart, with care. Its fragile fibres have been ripped out too many times to bear.

I started to see shadows everywhere the light fell, I guess i hoped one of them would be yours waiting to share the light with me.

Never be afraid to quench your own thirst, sing your own song or put yourself first.

Your air fuels the last of my burning embers, for one final fire.

I am more than this skin I am in, And once you see that, we all win.

I have fun like a child in the street. When the day comes when I’m not enjoying it, I will leave football.

If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.

True love has the power of coming back.

Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.

I’ve come too far, and I don’t know how to get back.

Rumours voiced by women come to nothing.

In life and love, you learn that there comes a time to let go and move on.

They sent forth men to battle, But no such men return; And home, to claim their welcome, Come ashes in an urn.