“Play me a symphony of love with your tongue. It doesn’t have to be romantic.”

I dream about the body I wish I had and all the ways I could be touched in it.

If this love is going to break me, at least make my suffering sweet. I want to know what you taste like in sweltering summer heat.

If there’s still hope for the hopeless, there must be hope for us.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

I write poetry in my sleep because you only visit me in my dreams.

I watch in silence as day turns to dusk as our love turns to dust.

Desperate for answers, I go searching in the stars. I ask them: on a scale of one to catastrophe, how beautiful would they say we are?

I used every color on my palette to bring you back to life. Now you paint the most beautiful rainbows in someone else’s skies.

Your lips land on mine like a delicate prayer but I can still taste my mistakes years later.

I am still learning to love all the parts of me you kept hidden.

Static heart. Work of heart. Purify me with a dirty tongue.

Understand my soul – it’s the only love language I care for you to know.

I set sail eagerly and hungrily on the sea of love, to which there is no end in sight – only bright beginnings.

You are a waterfall of a woman. It’s no wonder why you’re always ready to spill.

He looks at me as if I’m the flame and he’s the sea; he’d turn his tide for a chance to burn with me.

Rain over me. I’ll still set like the sun for you.

A man will be as much of a gentleman as a woman requires.

In your fear, seek only peace. In your fear, seek only love.

Yes: but aren’t love and marriage notoriously synonymous in the minds of most women? Certainly very few men get the first without promising the second: love, that is–if it’s just a matter of spreading her legs, almost any woman will do that for nothing.

Love, like truth, can be shared, but not divided.

For a happy life, love the world and hate the word hate.

I love the work I do.

I could more easily contain Niagara Falls in a teacup than I can comprehend the wild, uncontainable love of God.

To live according to the spirit is to love according to the spirit.