“The greatest injustice I have suffered has come under the pretense of love.”

The feeling is like the ocean. Sometimes calm and still; other times, it’s a hurricane.

Summer was felt a little more; in autumn I began to fall. When winter came with all its white, you were mine to kiss goodnight.

I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.

I hope someday you will find me and remember what I once meant to you.

It’s so dark right now, I can’t see any light around me. That’s because the light is coming from you. You can’t see it but everyone else can.

If any person claims to have loved twice in all their life – they have not loved at all.

I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.

To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges.

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

The second I tried to tell myself I wasn’t in love was the moment I realized I was.

If a boy ever says, you remind me of someone–don’t fall in love with him. You will never be anything more than second best.

A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.

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.