“That’s poetic in its malevolence.”

You must determine where you are going in your life, because you cannot get there unless you move in that direction.

Order is not enough. You can’t just be stable, and secure, and unchanging, because there are still vital and important new things to be learned.

I’m not hurt. I’m appalled.

It’s the chattering buzz of ideologically possessed demons.

Beauty shames the ugly. Strength shames the weak. Death shames the living – and the Ideal shames us all.

I don’t think that you have any insight whatsoever into your capacity for good until you have some well-developed insight into your capacity for evil.

Experience is the best teacher, and the worst experiences teach the best lessons.

The successful among us delay gratification. The successful among us bargain with the future.

You deserve some respect. You are important to other people, as much as to yourself. You have some vital role to play in the unfolding destiny of the world.

It’s a luxury to pursue what makes you happy; it’s a moral obligation to pursue what you find meaningful.

You should not overlook the guidelines of your culture. Life is short, and you don’t have time to figure everything out on your own. The wisdom of the past was hard-earned, and your dead ancestors may have something useful to tell you.

Nietzsche said that a man’s worth was determined by how much truth he could tolerate.

The secret to your existence is right in front of you. It manifests itself as all those things you know you should do but are avoiding.

Much of happiness is hope, no matter how deep the underworld in which that hope was conceived.

You don’t get to choose not to pay a price, you only get to choose which price you pay.

Sometimes it seems the only people willing to give advice in a realistic society are those with the least to offer.

Poetry runs through tired veins reviving once sleeping souls.

Go ahead break my heart. Although I love your darkness, the sun will eventually dry my tears and paint rainbows in my sky. I will transform this pain into poetry and these wings will carry me away.

Poems are nothing more than raindrops on a page falling from an open soul, staining the page one shade darker, and opening the one closed passage between me and you.

Destiny broke her, but poetry saved her.

When I write poems about my feelings for you, it seems that even my words blush.

what is my poetry if not all of my sorrows blooming?

So be bold, run free and live like poetry.

Poetry isn’t about beautifying the words; Its about stripping off its thick cover and appreciating the rawness.