“I search for summer in every corner of september.”

Nights were made for broken hearts.

We always live for the summer until we don’t live it at all.

I lost and found myself in all your maybe’s.

I live in the imaginary wild and its soft as summer.

Sometimes getting lost is just the right direction.

Today, she decided to sparkle. And so she did.

I see the world in shades of you.

It takes effort to make it to forever.

There’s too much hurt in loving but too little life in not.

It’s not songs that remind me of lost lovers. It’s poems.

With each daydream she weaved her pastel heart into the sky.

Spring is poetry poured into nature.

I dreamed in skies of blue before september stole all the light.

She loves her lonely moments the silence away from the crowds, when its just her daydreaming.

Her afternoon tea is a fountain of daydreams.

Night time thoughts lead nowhere but into melancholy.

I’m just a fucked-up lover searching for someone who will understand my scars and never leave my side.

People search for joy everywhere not knowing that the Self is the source of all joy.

In life, don’t keep searching for good people, rather, become good yourself, maybe you meet someone who has been searching for a good person.

Our search is never for a thing, but for the feeling we think the thing will give us.

One who is in search of knowledge should give up the search of pleasure and the one who is in search of pleasure should give up the search of knowledge.

The best philanthropy is constantly in search of the finalities-a search for a cause, an attempt to cure evils at their source.

The search for happiness is one of the chief sources of unhappiness.

All of our lives we seem to be searching for something only to find it was there all along.