“How lonely it feels to be next to you.”

A kind heart and a smile that gets her in and out of trouble.

Let’s make the world wait while we write poetry and talk about love.

How perfectly you love my imperfection.

Give me an old bookshop, rain, and memories of you.

We’re just friends. It’s as complicated as that.

We were supposed to be, even if we can’t be.

You will always be my favorite story to tell.

Every letter of every poem is one more moment with you.

Because a broken heart still beats.

Have you heard the rumors about us? I kind of love them.

You introduced me to secrets.

What a magical spell those stars cast, making us believe we were written for them.

I have nothing to say and I can’t help but think that says a lot.

I prefer daydreams to those at night. It’s more fun to use my hands.

Sure, we could have kept going, but the chance of finding a gas station was zero.

You were all I ever wanted and nothing I could have.

Let love lead your soul. Make it a place to retire to, a kind of monastery cave, a retreat for the deepest core of your being.

Distance in a straight line has no mystery. The mystery is in the sphere.

The sphere that is deepest, most unexplored, and most unfathomable, the wonder and glory of God’s thought and hand, is our own soul!

The films that I do are deep, introspective, brooding roles that you’re in this heavy headspace all the time.

If the deaf are to hear the sound has to be very loud.

When you reach the top, that’s when the climb begins.

Love always elevates the character of man. It never lowers him, provided love be love.

But our eyes are different, what you see ain’t what I see.