“You don’t realize how magical a moment is until it becomes a memory.”

Because, in the end, it was just promises.

And how can you be so bad for me when I feel like I’m flying?

Because I always ruin everything. Maybe it’s better if I let you go.

If you try every day, then, you’re much stronger than you think.

And she started flying, just like the beautiful butterfly she is.

And I don’t know if it’s his lips or his fingers that make thousands of roses bloom on my skin.

Maybe one day you’ll see, you’ll see what I saw.

She is like a beautiful night. Full of stars and darkness.

I could have given your heart a thousand roses. But you didn’t want one.

She believes in a wonderful world where unicorns exist. That’s why she believed in you.

We love each other because we can’t do otherwise.

And in my stories, the ones I tell myself at night before I sleep. You are there, again and forever.

And I realized It was when you loved me that my heart broke the most.

And you were probably just one of my stories, still made up in my mind. Again.

It’s a beautiful night in Paris. It’s raining and I’d like us to love each other tonight.

If loneliness exists, it’s because we all need a little pink in the gray of the sky.

I’m not a magician. I’am an alchemyst, a man of science, though perhaps not the science you would be familiar with.

You’re the magic of how light became a person.

Nothing can hold you back once you believe in your mind that magics are possible.

4 am before sleeping and 4 am after waking up hold the magic of two different worlds.

Words have a magical power. They can bring either the greatest happiness or deepest despair; they can transfer knowledge from teacher to student; words enable the orator to sway his audience and dictate its decisions.

A life of love is one of continual growth, where the doors and windows of experience are always open to the wonder and magic that life offers. To love is to risk living fully.

Once you have been touched by magic, you are forever changed. You leave a trail.

What you call magic is nothing more than an act of the imagination fired by the senses, then given shape by the power of your aura.