“Where are you?” She asked. “I have been searching all my life.” “Stop looking for me,” Love replied, “and I will find you.”

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.

I missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.

There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn’t one of them.

I can’t believe how hard it is. The pain is indescribable. It’s like I’ve been turned into sandstone and my insides are being slowly hollowed out by a chisel and mallet.

In the wrong hands, your past is a weapon.

Let her be herself. Or she will be somebody else’s.

In this view of the world, we spend the rest of our lives searching for wholeness and knowledge, wellness and health-the balance and harmony we lost when we were born.

The most difficult thing for spiritual seekers to do is to stop struggling, striving, seeking, and searching. Why? Because in the absence of struggle you don’t know who you are; you lose your boundaries.

Freedom is the disappearance of that which is searching for freedom.

If you keep saying your slippers aren’t yours, then you’ll die searching, you’ll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more.

A man searching for paradise lost can seem a fool to those who never sought the other world.

Dwell, O mind, within yourself; Enter no other’s home. If you but seek there, you will find All you are searching for.

In searching out my genealogy I found about four hundred of my female kindred who were never married. I asked Pres.

Searching for a mind long lost I found it shaping colors and history near the cliffs of your heart.