“The art to breathe and smile despite the pressure of anxiety, takes courage and power, keep appreciating yourself.”

She wished he was her essence but he wasn’t even worth to breathe the air she lived in.

She is a voice that can never be silenced, even if her echoes are transformed from blood and ink to rare gems.

She is the guardian of innocent souls.

She was fearless, she loved her darkness and basked in her light.

She wished she never knew him, but how would she learn the lesson if it wasn’t because of his filth.

It took her ages to understand that without respect there is no value or love.

How you make use of silence and uniqueness is the key to your rareness.

I deleted my words that had your darkness, instead my words with colors of power.

She never let the bruises of past become an obstacle in her growth and blooming.

She walked the path of dignity as she raised her standards.

I wish that he didn’t insult my loving the ones who wasn’t made from his ribs.

She valued herself to set boundaries without feeling guilty.

Live up to who you are, stop hiding behind excuses.

I transformed my focus and mind from pain and complains to creative conquests.

She, looked in the mirror and cried but didn’t let her soul to bleed, instead made bruises as roses.

He emptied her to fill his soul which had inifinte pores.

Every writer knows that unless you were born gifted with either supreme confidence or outsize ego, handing in your work holds, in some cases, admitted terror. If that’s too strong, at least fairly high anxiety.

Loving yourself is holding your own hand while you shake with anxiety.

I wake up every morning with the worst anxiety. I don’t know why. I have, like, a problem.

There is great beauty in going through life without anxiety or fear. Half our fears are baseless, and the other half discreditable.

Sicknesses, losses, crosses, anxieties and disappointments seem absolutely needful to keep us humble, watchful and spiritual-minde d. They are as needful as the pruning knife to the vine and the refiner’s furnace to the gold.

It is a general popular error to suppose the loudest complainers for the public to be the most anxious for its welfare.

Action over worry. Action over fear. Action over anxiety!

No one but myself knows the anxiety I go through and the trouble I give myself to finish paintings which do not satisfy me and seem to please so very few others.