“Even the prettiest rose wilts.”

Find me a photographer, who will make time stand still capturing life’s precious moments.

Let it be known that I was born to be free.

Love doesn’t hurt us people do.

And what shall I call you? Yours. In this life, the ones before, and all others thereafter.

The true masterpiece lies within me.

My roots touched mother earth and she blessed me with her color. Brown skin is beautiful.

Each kiss is my slice of heaven on earth.

My appetite for life has returned.

Eyes closed, hearts open. Vulnerable, I surrender. Trust fall, please catch me.

My flowers rot beneath my bed. I was too selfish to part with them. I hope their deaths don’t bring hexes. Did I say flowers? I meant my exes.

He pondered, what would make them believe in me? And God created women.

Honey, you are a rose.

A creature lives deep within, rotting far beneath my skin. Touch the pain inside of me, just to let my heart be free.

I was born from nature therefore, I am art.

For my own sanity, I must love myself in an obsessive and urgent manner. My life depends on it. I am healing.

With all the secrets and lies you keep. Your beauty is only skin deep. Vamp.

I truly believe that we amount to what we contribute to the world, But lately, everyone seems more concerned with taking.

To suffering there is a limit; to fearing, none.

It is perfectly true, as philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.

There is nothing more difficult than waking someone who is only pretending to be asleep.

For he has conquered death, with the gift of His last breath. Go now, and share the news, the Savior beckons you.

Age appears best in four things: old wood to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust and old authors to read.

We break ourselves to fit better into all the wrong hearts.

There is nothing with which every man is so afraid as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming.