“People will leave throughout Your life. You can turn that empty space Into a graveyard Or a garden.”

A woman came from a man’s rib Not from his feet to be below him Not from his head to be above him But from his side to be equal to him From his heart to be loved by him.

She was a open book, what a shame it was that most men were illiterate.

When we search for what we want Why do we always forget What we have?

You aren’t too much, I promise you this. Sometimes they just aren’t enough.

You should only ever build a house with someone who’s love is as strong as each nail.

A tear once lost returns but a love once lost is lost forever.

Miracles don’t exist it’s just the good deeds that pile up, the warm smiles and love. Eventually all of it overflows and creates what appears to be a miracle.

They all land softly… The breeze through the willow The rain in the forest The tears on my pillow.

Be mindful of dreams they make the numb feel again and the broken love again.

Somedays she knows love other days, heartache but each day she is strong.

Find what you would die for and live for it.

I love how it feels to live in a world that falls for the perfect, While you fall for the real.

I don’t care how dark this world becomes love is, and will always be my answer.

One of the best feelings in the world is knowing that someone is happy because of you.

How are we supposed to understand the unknown When we can’t even understand the people around us everyday.

I found you from nothing to something not one thing my everything.

When Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the best mode of governing a conquered city, he replied only by beating down with his staff all the tallest poppies in his garden.

The Bible is the story of two gardens. Eden and Gethsemane. In the first, Adam took a fall. In the second, Jesus took a stand.

Eve tasted the apple in the Garden of Eden in order to slake that intense thirst for knowledge that the simple pleasure of picking flowers and talking to Adam could not satisfy.

Friends are “annuals” that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a “perennial” that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect. There’s a place in the garden for both of them.

I would love this place to be my garden. (on Arsenal’s old stadium)

A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood.

Nothing is more completely the child of art than a garden.

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.