“We have a tendency to fall for broken things thinking we can fix them What if we just gathered all the pieces into our arms and loved them just as they are?”

Every beautiful story ends let mine end with you.

You are like spring gone too soon but keeps me dreaming.

Yes love is a battlefield, you can either fight each other or alongside each other.

Beautiful things take time and its always worth the wait.

For what it is worth I loved you more for your flaws and less for your perfection.

Who would ever believe me If I say you were in my dream & that I came to change what I saw there… Because you looked so sad in it.

You smiled and this world became a beautiful place.

Everything worth experiencing in life has the potential to break your heart.

My only hope is that for a moment i helped you feel truly happy.

Being humble isn’t thinking less of yourself, its thinking of yourself less.

What’s the saddest word in the English language? Almost. Almost is never enough.

We don’t truly know anyone or everything if we did, we wouldn’t need books.

Feel the sun on your skin and smile and let your mind wander a while.

So I will call upon your Name and keep my eyes above the waves when oceans rise my soul rests in Your embrace.

God has defended you in battles you never even knew about.

Sometimes it isn’t always meant to be love, Sometimes it is meant to be a lesson.

Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself.

Let’s stripe down our shields & fall into each other arms.

Every time I embrace a black woman I’m embracing slavery, and when I put my arms around a white woman, well, I’m hugging freedom.

Minds, however, are conquered not by arms, but by love and nobility.

I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other’s arms.

Fear is stronger than arms.

In my dreams and visions, I seemed to see a line, and on the other side of that line were green fields, and lovely flowers, and beautiful white ladies, who stretched out their arms to me over the line, but I couldn’t reach them no-how. I always fell before I got to the line.

He never went out without a book under his arm, and he often came back with two.