“There is a savagery to what you feel. It eats you up inside. But you will get through it; you don’t need his mouth to placate you. You don’t need his hands to untangle the butterfly knot in your heart. Your love is a fire that will burn itself out. Let it ravage you.”

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.

In time she will learn, not to miss them.

When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am and we just are.

It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

The briefest moment shared with you-the longest on my mind.

I don’t know how you are so familiar to me-or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before-in another time, a different place, some other existence.

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

If you love my heart and mind, then you would love me, for all that I’m. But if you don’t love my every flaw, then you mustn’t love me- not at all.

I don’t think all writers are sad, she said. I think it’s the other way around- all sad people write.

When someone stirs a world of emotion in you and it’s so intense you can barely stand to be with him.

But it was now time for her to go away-to find someone who could show her what happiness was.

The imagination which causes so many ravages among us, never speaks to the heart of savages.

An expert is a man who has stopped thinking. Why should he think? He is an expert.

They can’t scare me, if I scare them first.

You’re not perfect just the way you are. You could be better!

No beast is more savage than man when possessed with power answerable to his rage.

Whatever you are is all okay. I don’t like you anyway.

The most savage controversies are those about matters as to which there is no good evidence either way.

She was a woman who was once dark and destructive and it took courage to stand in front of her ruthless savageness.