“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.”

Your presence is poetic, mysterious and deep. If you don’t mind I’d like to read you; uncover the dirty secrets hidden within your pages and fill that missing space between your sheets.

I long for connection but speak only with your reflection.

I was on fire. You didn’t even hesitate stepping into the flames. After tonight I am certain all the neighbors know your name.

You want to taste my ruby lips but fear they’ll leave a mark. Loving you is trespassing, forbidden access to an insecure heart.

You are the thunderstorm warning and I’m dancing in acid rain.

The night is wine and we’re the stars.

How can I be soft when tough love is all I ever known?

I’ve got the midnight blues in the middle of the afternoon – the side effects of missing you.

If love is rain ours is always pouring.

Everyone chases fairytales and magic until love becomes an illusion.

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

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

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

She was such a beautiful and sweet creature and so full of tricks.

It doesnt change much for me really and my motivation remains the same – to create a beautiful future with Barcelona, winning many titles.

Always keep that happy attitude. Pretend that you are holding a beautiful fragrant bouquet.

Sometimes football can be cruel; cruel and also beautiful.

Henry is a beautiful player and has got complete technique, I adore watching him. I respect him very much as a man and as a footballer. He reminds me of myself.

Let us leave pretty women to men devoid of imagination.

Its beautiful to be alone. To be alone does not mean to be lonely. it means the mind is not influenced and contaminated by society.

You think she’s pretty, you ought to see my slingshot!