“Her heart was close to him. Her heart is closed for him.”

She believes that she’s learnt to stay alone. Deep down in her heart she feels lonely.

Until homes are empty, Hospitals and crematoriums are bound to be full.

A writer touches your soul. A good writer isn’t interested in touching your soul but disturbing it.

They have different opinions. But the love is mutual.

Pleasure disguised himself as happiness and stole life away.

They said that women can’t be good drivers. So, she became a fearless pilot.

She’s a delicate masterpiece. Touching her involves the risk of breaking her pieces.

Karma was always a cat. It was destiny who behaved like a bitch.

When you’re in love, you go beyond; not far.

She was getting fat and he was getting bald. As promised, they were growing old together.

He was the ultimate destination. She considered him a milestone.

You think, You know them. And then, you know them.

His promises looked so promising that she just ignored the blatant truths.

The irony is that he broke the only person he never wanted to hurt.

When it hurts, you feel it. But when it pains, you’re numb.

Anybody can write. Anybody! A writer just rewrites better.

Rest easy, dear heart grace has come for you.

My heart isn’t a song of silver and gold, it holds a million graves of solitary souls.

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you.

Plant seeds of hope in the cracks of your broken heart, with a little bit of patience it will soon begin to bloom again.

This love is soaked in alchemy, our leaden hearts broken by aching pasts have transformed into gold. I never knew love had the power to do so.

I will never rue the love inside of my heart because I have a king to uphold and queens to raise.

It’s the small things that melt my heart.

We tried to rhyme you and me parallels as in sky and sea timeless we were but lifetime apart but you’re still right here within my heart.