“We just sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. In the silence, I swear I could hear the beating wings of an angel.”

I dipped my heart into the river Styx, holding on to nothing but my memories of you. You’ll always be the Achilles heel to my invulnerable heart.

“May I have this dance”, my tongue asked hers.

Her smile was the only tune that my happiness danced to.

My pent-up passion seeped out like gas from a leaky stove, your touch was the spark I needed to set my body on fire.

I held a funeral for my past. But on occasion, I find myself dropping by its grave with pink roses to thank it for all lessons it taught me.

You reminded me of my first time in Paris; I was fascinated, lost, and I immediately loved everything about it.

Like sunshine at midnight, you were there for me at my darkest hour when you had absolutely no reason to.

Permanence is a wonderful magician. Now you see him, next he goes on to perform the greatest disappearing act of all time.

I let my mind wander and it always finds its way back to you. like a sweet-toothed child in search of a cookie jar.

Gone, but never forgotten. Like the catchy tune to an old song that I used to love.

Get off your high horse, The entire world doesn’t revolve around you, only mine does.

The stars shone brightly that night. But the brightest ones seemed to have found their way into your eyes.

You’re definitely the queen of somebody’s castle.

Her smile was the only tune that my happiness danced to.

Time flies when you are having fun, but stops when you’re in love.

Her face was art and her body was poetry in a short black dress.

Sooner and later you will see great changes made, dreadful horrors and vengeances. For as the Moon is thus led by its angel, the heavens draw near to the Balance.

God is so omnipresent. God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.

Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy.

I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.

Music is well said to be the speech of angels.

You didn’t think of angels as white or black. They were angels.

Nothing gives us a greater idea of our soul, than that God has given us, at the moment of our birth, an angel to take care of it.

She has the intuition of an angel and fire like a dragon.