“Don’t you get it? I’d live and die for you. You have my heart locked in prison. And yet you are my greatest source of freedom.”

Misery loves company, perhaps I’m misery myself, wishing for someone to sit beside me and distract me from myself.

The adult heart beats differently.

Quiet, that’s how I go when there’s a lot to say.

Rip out my heart. Dissect the atriums and valves. You’ll find nothing but love pouring out.

It’s not so much about seeing the light as it is feeling the light.

She dances with the darkness and becomes the shadow of the night.

Your essence, so pure. Even from across the room. I want to savor every last drop. Maybe you could heal the devil in me.

And we find ourselves stuck somewhere between a daydream and reality.

I have a heart full of feelings. But a mouth devoid of words.

I am full to the brim with words. A message in a bottle lost at the sea. Yearning to reach the shore of poetry.

It’s strange where we find ourselves years after being in a completely different place.

It’s quite sad that some words never reach the person they were written for.

You are the color amidst the grey.

Run free little soul. You were never meant to be constrained.

Fragments of my love will live in you for eternity.

Sometimes I lay down at night and wonder if it’s time to lay down my life.

Well, don’t we all feel like jumping to the end of the world sometimes?

She says that her love for me would never die, but that would change if she found out about you and I.

The greatest tragedy is not death, but life without purpose.

The only way that I could figure they could improve upon Coca-Cola, one of life’s most delightful elixirs, which studies prove will heal the sick and occasionally raise the dead, is to put bourbon in it.

Sin doesn’t make us bad, sin makes us dead. The gospel doesn’t make us better, the gospel makes us alive.

And once you’re unafraid with death, I think your capacity for violence is immediately increased. Once you’re unafraid of death, you are a very, very dangerous adversary.

We only said goodbye with words I died a hundred time, you go back to her and I go back to black.

Four sweet lips, two pure souls, and one undying affection, – these are love’s pretty ingredients for a kiss.