“I hope your lemonade tastes like young summers and old times.”

Open your eyes to the bottomless sky that teases omnipresence and know that you are my beyond.

You danced the fine line between graceful and reckless and this is what I wake to wait for.

I spy a life on fire and taken for granted by me.

Needing leave clumsy me – spilling mustard on my sleeve as cover-up for all the talk of love.

You and your sea glass green kaleidoscope eyes have always been my kryptonite.

We’re outsiders- you and I- we could almost be brilliant.

Things will change – that’s the best and worst of it.

The world knew it couldn’t break you unless you listened to it talking shit thought and broke yourself.

I dream of you in constellations.

And there in the mirror staring into your shadows eyes red nosed and mascara freckled you’ll recognize yourself again.

Maybe we could begin entwined – not whole – but one again.

Your forever is always worth waiting for.

You make me feel the way Christmas did when I was a kid, I’d close my eyes look to the skies and magic became real.

I wish you the wildest of dreams.

Thank you for believing in me the way I used to.

At least now the stars are in good company.

I just sing what I’m feeling at the time and hope my fans will like that and appreciate that.

At fifty-four, I am still in progress, and I hope that I always will be.

Don’t be afraid. Be focused. Be determined. Be hopeful. Be empowered.

I began to understand that his version of hope reached far beyond mine: It was one thing to get yourself out of a stuck place, I realized. It was another thing entirely to try and get the place itself unstuck.

We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars.

Where there’s life there’s hope.

Civilization is a hopeless race to discover remedies for the evils it produces.

Leap and the net will appear.