“Rain is the warm softness of a mother’s hand as she soothingly dabs that nasty smelling ointment on that bruised kneecap of yours, her delicate features creased with worry.”

Growth is not a competition.

At times, a smile houses more sorrow than tears do.

Do not despair. The storm shall pass and the sun shall rise once more.

Choose peace over temporary pleasure.

Hang in there darling. The rain is necessary for the flower to fully grow.

Never let anyone mask their misbehavior towards you as authenticity.

How pleasant would it have been if our sorrows drowned themselves in our pellucid oceans of saline tears, beauty knows no limits.

Every album has its sad songs and happy songs.

Her eyes sparkled with diamonds of hope and burned with fires of raw passion.

Your act of kindness towards someone could be the highlight of their day.

Don’t be afraid to bloom even in the darkest of times, just like moonflower blooms in the depths of the night.

You could see a butterfly as just a butterfly, or you could see it as an iridescent flower amidst the endless periwinkle blue skies.

Let the rainbows of hope kiss some color back into your numb cerulean heart.

Just like roses come with thorns, beauty comes with flaws. You could be the only rose in someone’s life full of thorns.

Each sunrise is a new chance to make your life the one you always dream of.

You healed my broken wings with your soothing love and taught me how to fly again one step at a time.

How delightful are the pleasures of the imagination! In those delectable moments, the whole world is ours; not a single creature resists us.

She had already allowed her delectable lover to pluck that flower which, so different from the rose to which it is nevertheless sometimes compared, has not the same faculty of being reborn each spring.

When the ivy has found its tower, when the delicate creeper has found its strong wall, we know how the parasite plants grow and prosper.

But the hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.

But the hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.

It is always a delicate matter, when a friend or acquaintance becomes president.

The voice of conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear that it is impossible to mistake it.

Absences are a good influence in love and keep it bright and delicate.