“The darkness is only here to remind you how beautiful everything is when light comes back.”

Some pain stays but we learn to carry it.

I am always trying to be more than I am instead of remembering that what I am is more than enough.

We broke away from each other like clouds after a storm. But the sun never reappeared for me and I don’t know what to do with all this rain.

The thing about healing is that it keeps growing the more time passes, and the thing about time is that it keep passes.

Like a storm that does not know where to let the rain fall, sometimes i do not know how to let go and other times i do not know how to stop.

Please don’t be afraid when i tell you about this emptiness i carry. I am still so full of love.

Sunflowers adapt to let the light reach them and I’m learning to do the same.

I want to be like the wild; Never afraid to grow.

Always be kind. After all most hearts are home to some kind of pain.

And maybe my arms have grown too tired to hold this but my eyes will never stop searching for miracles.

They tell you to be grateful for what you have. But you are also allowed to be sad for what you have lost.

I remind myself that I am capable of growing flowers from rain and building mountains from dirt.

I have cried with the rain. Now I will grow with the forest.

I am made of flowers, the kind that always grow back even after the frost.

You cannot hope to heal when you are stuck some where between needing to get over them and still wishing for them to come back.

It hurts to let go but it heals to be free.

Maybe the most perfect words I’ve ever heard, beauty and sadness, are these three. Not, I love you. But, Let it be.

Every day I discover more and more beautiful things. It’s enough to drive one mad. I have such a desire to do everything, my head is bursting with it.

Pride is the oldest and most common of sins. Humility is the rarest and most beautiful of graces.

The stars seemed near enough to touch and never before have i seen so many. i always believed the lure of flying is the lure of beauty, but i was sure of it that night.

Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.

My beautiful proof lies all in ruins.

Belladonna, n.: In Italian a beautiful lady; in English a deadly poison. A striking example of the essential identity of the two tongues.

Through every trial we grow. All suffering we experience has a meaning. Though it seems very cruel, it is like the fire that smelts the iron ore: the steel that emerges from that furnace is beautifully strong, useful for many purposes.