“Touch me in all the right places but one: heart.”

The ‘kind’ in mankind. Show me that.

Nostalgia is a box of forget me nots.

In light of recent events can you tell me where to find the light?

Music is a different kind of intimacy. So is poetry.

I wonder if you’re thinking of me like I’m thinking of you.

Feelings you could never explain. That’s what poetry is.

Silence is a form of poetry.

The best way to be misunderstood is to care too much.

I’m tired of looking for love in people. I now get my fill from nature.

The loudest voices are often the ones that aren’t heard.

Nostalgia seems to haunt me these days I wonder if it’s old age or just a phase.

You feel like the moonlight, mysteriously dark its blinding.

Poetry, music, and silence.

I’ve chased after sunsets too many times to know how precious time is.

You complete me.

Do not tell me how to feel just because you can’t understand.

Our mind is enriched by what we receive, our heart by what we give.

The care of God for us is a great thing, if a man believe it at heart: it plucks the burden of sorrow from him.

I do desire we may be better strangers.

I put my heart and soul into my work, and I have lost my mind in the process.

I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.

Those who suffer most cry out the least.

In studying your basic metabolism, we first listen to your heart’s beat.

Throughout life people will make you mad, disrespect you and treat you bad. Let God deal with the things they do, cause hate in your heart will consume you too.