“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.”

There are things I miss that I shouldn’t, and things I don’t that I should. Sometimes we want what we couldn’t, sometimes we love what we could.

One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else.

I love you, I do – you have my word. You have all my words.

You know, missing someone can sometimes be the best thing for a writer.

Do you remember the song that was playing the night we met? No, but I remember every song I have heard since you left.

Before I fell in live with words, with setting skies and singing birds – it was you I fell in love with first.

Your first love isn’t the first person you give your heart to- it’s the first one who breaks it.

Strange how it mattered so much, when now it matters so little.

Like time suspended, a wound unmended – you and I. We had no ending, no said goodbye; For all my life, I’ll wonder why.

I was there in your forgetting, until I was forgot.

For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.

She was the book that was not written. The sentence that was not scripted. She was the word you wished you could have said.

Knowing sleep will set it right – if you were not to wake.

Hands are no longer hands. They are caresses. Mouths are no longer mouths. They are kisses. My name is no longer a name, it is a call. And love is no longer love – love is you.

I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I’m sorry I haven’t told you in so long. But please don’t think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.

Have you ever loved a rose, and bled against her thorns; and swear each night to let her go, then love her more by dawn.

The heart is like a flowing river of emotions deep as the sea and vast as the heavens bringing color to life.

Children aren’t coloring books. You don’t get to fill them with your favorite colors.

But for real, for me, I feel like with the red lipstick thing it all depends on the pair of complexion. I’m just being for real. You have to be fair skinned to get away with that.

But for real, for me, I feel like with the red lipstick thing it all depends on the pair of complexion. I’m just being for real. You have to be fair skinned to get away with that.

But for real, for me, I feel like with the red lipstick thing it all depends on the pair of complexion. I’m just being for real. You have to be fair skinned to get away with that.

I want to be the first guy to help people accept everybody for who they are. I’m talking about colors, religions, sex, everybody. My music is for everybody, it’s not just for one kind of group.

I want to be the first guy to help people accept everybody for who they are. I’m talking about colors, religions, sex, everybody. My music is for everybody, it’s not just for one kind of group.

I want to be the first guy to help people accept everybody for who they are. I’m talking about colors, religions, sex, everybody. My music is for everybody, it’s not just for one kind of group.