“A cold heart hurts you the most.”

Unbroken hearts tell no stories.

The problem is that people forget.

Let positivity be your shield.

All I ever wanted was more.

The magic is in the mystery.

All I need is a lover like me.

Better times are coming.

Every dream deserves a chance to live.

My heart is a wild flower.

Trust in time it knows everything.

There is no moon like you.

The stillness reveals everything.

You are complete even in your pieces.

I lost myself in the search of you.

Every fall is a chance to rise.

Chase nothing but moments.

The cold consumes me. The oceans in my eyes freeze. It’s 2 AM and I can’t move. Your loss is too much to bear.

Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?

Workmen’s compensation, hours and conditions of labor are cold consolations, if there be no employment.

In 1968, I became a vegetarian after realizing that animals feel afraid, cold, hungry, and unhappy like we do.

My reasoning they may counter; my speech they may distrust; my apparel they may disapprove; my face they may reject; and even my bargains may cause them suspicion; yet my love will melt all hearts liken to the sun whose rays soften the coldest clay.

It is only when I dally with what I am about, look back and aside, instead of keeping my eyes straight forward, that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart.

A heart does turn cold unless it’s been treated with coldness for a while.

It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.