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

Roses are red, violets are blue, star-crossed lovers – me and you.

I believe in your dreams. The sweetest words to a writer’s ears.

Starry nights calm my thoughts and whims, but it makes me ache for all the things that could have been.

Believe in the beauty of taking things slow. Beautiful things take time. Patience is elegance.

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

Someday, we’re all going to be a memory. Be the kind that makes people smile when they remember you every once in a while.

I never knew I lost in love’s game until I was the only one left burning in flames.

Growth comes beyond comfort zones.

Despite all the pain from your past, may you never lose the heart to love and trust.

There are those like me, people who write selfishly. We who write for the love we lost, can’t have, or the lack thereof.

Someday, we will look back, and we won’t be ashamed.

One day, we would all be where we’re meant to be. Everything will fall into place, and we won’t have to force things or people to stay.

I hope you get through the battles you don’t tell anyone. Even if its easier said than done, I hope your heart always chooses to be kind.

The rain reminds me of what I couldn’t forget, of what we couldn’t mend, of the things I’ll forever regret.

You are the lost pages of my life – the years I lost my heart.

Love arrived when I least expected it. And just as quickly as it came, left me without a warning.

I would give all I possess to get out of myself; but somehow, at the end, I find myself so vastly more interesting than nine tenths of the people I meet.

To go from mortal to Buddha, you have to put an end to karma, nurture your awareness, and accept what life brings.

People are interested in their own sexuality and they’ve always reflected it in their art. End of story.

I have reached the end of my time, and have hardly come to the beginning of my task.

I’m a country boy at the end of the day. I’m going to pick up the phone and tell you I’m going to sue you.

It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.

Do I do this to you?, he wondered, as he watched her eat. Or is this just the relief of being out from under the forbidden eye of that husband of yours?

The road goes upward towards the light; but the laden traveler may never reach the end of it.