“I was not always strong. But I was always brave. And to be brave is strong enough.”

I knew it was real love the moment I could bare myself to you naked (without taking my clothes off) and I could show you all my scars (the ones that are invisible to the naked eye) and you loved me even more.

You will find poems hidden on my whole body, Which I would never be able to put into words and write them out.

She is someone who falls in love with imperfections. Like the moon with all her craters, hearts with cracks, and souls with scars. For she knows they carry the deepest and truest love of all deep inside.

whenever I look at you my thoughts are full of sensual poetry. But would I write about my feelings for you, my pen would begin to glow and my paper would immediately catch fire.

I never valued the meaning of words that much, Until I realized how healing they are.

I turned my scars into wisdom, and my past into lessons learnt.

I can feel you in every part of my body. I do not know how you do it, that you still linger deep inside of my veins bones DNA without even being beside me. But you do and I love that.

When you stumble and fall on your knees, it does not mean you are weak. The only important is your braveness while you stand up again and face it.

Never hold her back from the things she does, with passion in her heart and love in her soul.

LISTEN and SILENT have the same letters. It means, when someone is SILENT then LISTEN, for silence speaks volumes.

If she lets you be a part of her life, you have to understand that she thinks you know how to deal with hurricanes.

In the nights when our souls melt together into one, even the moon blushes.

Pain shapes us into writers, it cuts our veins open like a sharp knife. But while we are about to bleed dry, we turn our blood into ink.

She cannot Conquer your demons. But she can be the guiding light, which shines through the cracks of the darkest corners of your heart to blind them.

My soul is too deep for those who do not dare to dive their head under the waters surface.

Destiny broke her, but poetry saved her.

America makes prodigious mistakes, America has colossal faults, but one thing cannot be denied: America is always on the move. She may be going to Hell, of course, but at least she isn’t standing still.

America makes prodigious mistakes, America has colossal faults, but one thing cannot be denied: America is always on the move. She may be going to Hell, of course, but at least she isn’t standing still.

Come in, my dear from that harsh world that has rained elements of stone upon your tender face. Every soul should receive a toast from us for bravery!

And that, is the story of our country, one invasion after another Macedonians. Saddanians. Arabs. Mongols. Now the Soviets. But we’re like those walls up there. Battered, and nothing pretty to look at, but still standing.

The result showed that fortune helps the brave.

The toughest decision I ever made was staying alive when life was unbearable.

In war, mere appearances have had all the effect of realities; and that a person, under a firm persuasion that he can command resources, virtually has them; that very prospect inspiring him with hope and boldness in his exertions.

Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!