“Imagination is lost in reality’s cruelty.”

From each scar today bloom the flowers of a kinder tomorrow.

You are already more than enough.

Don’t reorient yourself to fit in to an upside down world.

Let’s get perfectly lost recklessly joyful, let’s rest a while in this sweet reverie.

Love me as a storm would rage full force or not at all.

You keep planting sympathy in rows meant for empathy and I’m here picking weeds with tears in my eyes.

Poetry runs through tired veins reviving once sleeping souls.

Tend to your own garden and watch the beauty you begin to see in others.

Less rushing, more lingering. Less distraction, more noticing. Less comparison, more gratitude.

Stars fell in our eyes the night sky our canvas, we painted the moon red.

I was always looking at you.

Hope is the gentle salve the world needs.

In the rise and fall of all that is let me be your moon, your sun.

I will love you from afar it’s better this way because close up it hurts too much.

Poems are nothing more than raindrops on a page falling from an open soul, staining the page one shade darker, and opening the one closed passage between me and you.

Be the reason someones today is better than yesterday.

God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live.

Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it.

Man is the cruelest animal.

If you lose money for the firm, I will be forgiving. If you lose reputation, I will be ruthless.

I believe that life is a journey, often difficult and sometimes incredibly cruel.

We are cruel when someone refuses to play the role in which we have cast him. We judge a person only according to his relationship towards us.

It was life, often unsatisfying, frequently cruel, usually boring, sometimes beautiful, once in a while exhilarating.

Today is cruel. Tomorrow is crueller. And the day after tomorrow is beautiful.