“The moon reminds me of how beautiful darkness is.”

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.

Sometimes I get my youth confused with age.

Give me love and I’ll show you unconditional.

I miss you even in my dreams.

Love, if true, stays when all else is gone.

Beauty surrounds us.

True beauty lies in purity of the heart.

Sometimes you can have a whole lifetime in a day and never notice that this is a beautiful as it gets.

Fashion is architecture: it is a matter of proportions.

Only the heart senses beauty.

Sometimes I forget to admire the beauty of not being with you.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before.