“We both believed in love but one of us believed more than the other.”

The love I have for you burns faster than a forest fire.

Does fully moving on actually exist? So far, I haven’t found it.

I want a man willing to hike mountains for me.

You can’t put love in a locked box, it’s not a stagnant thing.

Let the music fill the empty patches of your soul. And heal you.

You are the sand that doesn’t stick when I am dry and sad.

I am the shore and you are the tide. We come together only to get pulled in opposite directions.

You’re good at telling me lies laced with honesty.

Dear love, I’m starting to wonder where you are. I’m starting to wonder if you’ll ever find me.

You took the light parts of me and turned them dark.

When our time expires my love for you won’t.

All I’ve ever wanted is to feel wanted by you.

I’ve learned to stop begging for love. At the wrong door.

Everyday healing has a different face. Sometimes familiar. Sometimes a stranger.

With you, I am everything I’ve ever been told I’m not.

Its better to walk into the fire than never feel the heat of the flames.

Poetry is one of the destinies of speech… One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language.

Nursing is one of the Fine Arts: I had almost said, the finest of Fine Arts.

My love had grown one with my soul; it became darker, but did not go out.

In the menu, there should be a climax and a culmination. Come to it gently. One will suffice.

I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown.

The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees one’s self. And the arbitrariness of the constraint serves only to obtain precision of execution.

The last moments slipped by, one by one, irretrievable.

There’s not an American in this country free until every one of us is free.