“And sometimes love looks like choosing.”

I love you, and I’m so sorry I don’t know how to.

Poetry was my gateway drug to you.

Please be gentle with me I am trying to forget what I can’t remember.

Let me teach you the language of love you’ve never spoken.

Love me or leave me but don’t leave me in love.

I am laden with body memories from lifetimes I don’t remember.

I’m not unreasonable I just think it’s very reasonable you would fall in love with me.

It seems to me a cruelty beauty and tragedies are lovers.

I’ve only ever wanted to be new.

She was always falling in love with the complexities of the human heart.

I know the way isn’t clear hold steady anyway.

Your lies were so beautiful that I miss them more than you.

Let me show you just how bad good love can be.

I fear I am and will always be the river emptying into your sea.

I was perfect until I broke.

You only knew the parts of me you accepted in yourself.

Imagine how weird phones would look if your mouth was nowhere near your ears.

On the other hand, you have different fingers.

It’s scary to imagine yourself failing. But I do know that in Bollywood, every Friday changes your destiny, and unfortunately, every Friday also changes the way people look at you.

It’s not the size of the nose that matters, it’s what’s inside that counts.

The magic that lives in being loved for who you are in the shadows, not just for how you appear in the light.

Oh my God, so many young girls now look like whores!

Let’s jump in the rabbit hole, ditch our fears, and watch, like magic, how strength appears.

A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defense of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason.