“I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.”

But when I look at you, I just know instinctively, that despite the odds against you and although life will always find a way to test you, someday you’ll have everything you want. Your ending will be a happy one.

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.

My choices are like my fingerprints, they make me unique.

Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.

In many parts of the world, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. But I think we need women to solve the problems that men create.

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it and it darts away.

Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.