“Respect your body, it’s a home to be thankful for.”

Tell me you are not aching, tell me you’re pretending.

Those pages became the ocean I left my traces on.

There always will be people to put you down, make sure there always is your desire to stay strong.

It’s good to give up on some things, sometimes it lets you free.

Let your love consume you.

There’s another part of me which resists you, which loves me.

Even the pages I ink crave your name.

Remind yourself that you ended a chapter to start a new one not to re-read the previous one.

I need a house, full of books, devoid of heartaches.

People don’t last, their actions say the lasting words for them.

As far as possible, let’s meet beyond the stars.

Let me know you to the core, let me be sweet to the sour.

I wish I could go back in time, not to do it all over again but just to be there for myself.

Filled with sorrow yet empty.

It feels ironic when you wake up one day and try to unlove a person you dreamed of waking up with.

Happiness is found by filling your voids with a leap of faith.

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth wings, like rose-petals.

Yoga isn’t just about the body, it’s also about the mind and it’s a technique that has really helped me.

It is reasonable that forces directed toward bodies depend on the nature and the quantity of matter of such bodies, as happens in the case of magnetic bodies.

Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.

A house is not a home unless it contains food and fire for the mind as well as the body.

Mr. Bean is essentially a child trapped in the body of a man. All cultures identify with children in a similar way, so he has this bizarre global outreach.

My body is my journal, and my tattoos are my story.