“The voices in your head are lying, i tell you this world never stopped you from flying.”

Too many of us have grown up just too early.

I don’t want everything to be a destination, where I have to grind and reach, O! how I long for some good to come in my way and let me pick it up.

All this sadness longs to be touched.

I want to know the 2 am you because my love we all are different when we are at war under the sun.

A love that stays will always remain secondary to the one that left, but isn’t it a shame to worship that which left in place off that which stayed.

But the act of holding on speaks to me so much more about a human heart than the courage of letting go ever could.

These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

Growing flowers on your tongue/ won’t make those lies/ any sweet/ saying that you still/ love me/ won’t make this/ broken trust/ change how it feels.

For once I wanna look back and not sigh.

All my life has been a struggle to know, what to hold on and what to let go, but still, i end up sitting in the corner of the room with a flickering candle, whimpering, naked, shuddering, lost.

My god! this love it will make a fool out of us all.

So, what ruined you? -hope.

There is a wild in you which thrives in places and on days, when, even the sun in you couldn’t survive.

Hope has never looked the same twice. Pain has never looked the same twice. Love has never looked the same twice.

I remember my mother whispering me every night, if you don’t hold that little light inside you, the universe will let go off the hold of you.

Isn’t this loneliness a strange poetry? you want everyone to read, but you are never willing to write it down.

Sometimes you need to start again, in order to fly

Risk the fall to know how it feels to fly.

I lay no claim to advancing scientific data other than advancing flying knowledge. I can only say that I do it because I want to.

Guess who’s flying free now? You, a mere speck of the ground. And I, lost and found amongst the clouds.

Ours is the commencement of a flying age, and I am happy to have popped into existence at a period so interesting.

Love lives. and dies. as fast as butterflies.

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.

So I accept these awards on behalf of the cake bakers and all of those other women who can do some things quite as important, if not more important, than flying, as well as in the name of women flying today.