“Be patient with me, dear heart. The art of loving is a peculiar business when one has spent an eternity hating themselves.”

They build ladders from my spine and they climb and they fall and they break me, and they climb again.

Sometimes love is nothing more than a sticky web; illusions spun, from clever minds and bitter hearts.

There is no greater power than that of the sun, the moon, and a woman who knows her worth.

I have God in my words and the devil in my ear, and a sister who keeps telling me to find my magic.

You load your words as I bare my chest, and this will be the most beautiful death.

Poetry is the loveliest art. It has a wretched way of revealing our own character when we think we are judging the poets.

I have known love and I have known loss, but in the end, they both looked a lot like you.

I write because suicide is no longer an option.

Too many times I have given this heart away, I am afraid it is no longer mine.

I think I saw you again in the moonlight tonight, and I swear I could taste the hints of it alll.

On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.

He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.

How recklessly we turn from strangers and blindly back to lovers, to nothing.

He was all dangerous eyes and beautiful lies, but I ached. for him to lie to me some more.

Some souls were never meant to be content.

I like you here, between commas, where the only thing you can break now, is my lines.

Knowing your deepest intention can be your guiding force in the creation of a better life.

You grow more when you get more people’s perspective.

Great organizations demand a high level of commitment by the people involved.

When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.

Anything you can imagine probably is doable, you just have to imagine it and work on it.

People don’t want gadgets, they want services.

The brain is a muscle that can move the world.

Great ideas originate in the muscles.