“I thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.”

You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.

There are days when the melancholy settles on you like a sudden change in weather. The kind of sadness that is intangible. Like the presence of an ache where you can’t pinpoint exactly where it hurts, you just know it does.

Don’t you get it?” he said. “The ones who are afraid of heights don’t trust themselves enough to jump.

Searching for the one thing, that would set my sad soul free.

In cemeteries of memories, our love will lie in caskets.

You talk to me in riddles, I will answer you in rhyme. I loved you for a little- I will love you for all time.

I’m the one having to pander to you. I’m sick of being the one doing all the chasing. I’m not asking you to make me a priority – I know you’ve got a lot going on. But at least meet me halfway.

Are you like me? Do you give too much, too quickly? Do you throw yourself blindly at the world, thinking that it will always open its arms up to you?

He gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.

Remember, your words are your power. Never forget your words.

I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them.

That’s the thing about happiness. It doesn’t require justification.

My indecision. I wanted everything because I didn’t want anything enough.

My heart is like a time capsule-it keeps safe the memory of you. I know it’s harder with you gone than if you had never been here at all-but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel the constant need to explain myself. I don’t want to live in a world like that either.

I have always thought of memories as fragments, like colored glass shards in a kaleidoscope. It is the source of great beauty in our lives, yet the cause of such heartache. It remains the bridge between our past and present – it gives weight and dimension to our very existence.