Where in the world would a star be without the love of the sky?
MUNIA KHANSpring is the fountain of love for thirsty winter.
More Munia Khan Quotes
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My shadow is tired walking with me; but I have yet to be bored walking with myself, all by myself.
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I wish to spend a lifetime near a lighthouse where loneliness will be the glimmer of luminous prancing upon ocean waves… rising and falling only for my breathing.
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Moon is the light from a lantern in heaven.
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When you run out of love, it’s really hard to understand whether you have lost your heart or your heart has lost you.
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I love to chase my shadow to feel how it rests in the dark.
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If you rescue me from my pipe dreams, I’ll stop smoking fantasies.
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Love is love, even if it is illicit; like light remains light even in the darkness.
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The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.
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Even a wolf knows how to be polite when animalistic humans have no clue about politeness.
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Soft feathers cannot make a cruel bird kind.
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Patience is to wait for the ice to melt instead of breaking it.
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Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.
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Sometimes it is easier to feel the veins wilted and empty than to sense the coldness of blood in fear.
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It is hard to befool a fool who has already been fooled so many times.
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A heartful mind can always see better than mindless eyes.
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Dreamers must dream on as long as the nightmare wakes them up to greet with a bucketful of reality.
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If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.
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If we are the trees, words are our roots; and we grow as we write.
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A mind can bleed a heart to death.
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Distance unites missing beats of two hearts in love.
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All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night’s black spell on darkness, beguiling.
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You don’t need to be the tide to rise and fall, you don’t have to be a wave to touch the shore; just be a little sand-grain and feel them all.
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Ocean separates lands, not souls.
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The love of a half dead heart will keep you half alive.
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Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them.
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It is the honey which makes us cruel enough to ignore the death of a bee.
MUNIA KHAN