“I am getting better at forgetting you. I am slowly but steadily learning the art of forgetting you.”

Without rhymes and metaphors I am, at my core, just a lover left alone.

You can risk or forever regret about chances you missed.

For what its worth, I thought we would make it. I wished – I really did.

In the end, what matters is how you lived your life. Were you happy? Did you love enough? Did you reach for the stars?

They bleed not in the mouth but through their ink – indelible and dark.

May the sun shine brighter on days when you feel like your battle’s getting harder.

The right hands will erase your aches for love builds more than it breaks.

She is love in its purest form; her arms, the safest place I’ve known. She is the scent of home; the warrior who carried me in her womb.

Your memory is my opium – sustaining me daily, killing me softly.

We made promises, and then life happened.

But despite it all, I’m glad we happened.

Nothing in life is worth pursuing if it means prolonging your suffering.

Am I little mad for writing someone I’ll never have?

People are much brighter and more beautiful when they talk of things they love.

Pain and loneliness can be addictive, but there can also be strength in embracing it.

Silence is a loud language – weapon of the wise, solace of the tired hearts.

When the band plays fast, you play slow; when the band plays slow, you play fast.

If somebody told me I only had an hour to live, I’d spend it choking a white man. I’d do it nice and slow.

To change history is very slow. The first two times I came to the States – black people didn’t have the right to vote.

We also want to try and slow down all this foolishness that’s going on between the East and West.

Society is so slow. A feminist is a bore.

Slow progress is better than no progress.

I don’t like to play slow or softly.

Globed from the atoms falling slow or swift I see the suns, I see the systems lift Their forms; and even the systems and the suns Shall go back slowly to the eternal drift.