“The death of imagination is the end of all possibility.”

You know the marks of my skin better than anyone else. I’d be lying if I didn’t say you’ve made a few yourself.

The spilling of blood is payment for the joy that is to come.

Its been a while since a new face learned my favorite things.

I can take care of myself but still its nice knowing you love me enough to do the same.

If fire wasn’t bad enough the gods gave us love so if flames failed to burn us down we had each other still.

When you’ve been hurt so many times every reaching hand looks hungry not helpful.

I am tired of being the frontline to other peoples war if i must die today may it be for myself.

Your happiness doesn’t need permission from someone else.

She undresses like honey In a half emptied bottle, it is warm it is good it is god.

Down to earth but she stayed an angel.

Mouths open and very close catching sounds inside our throats.

Listening-it is a love I cherish well.

Is it love that really binds us? isn’t lust the first to find us? Was my heart so fucking worthless that you threw it all behind us?

Skin is just the softest cage.

Dear hands, Don’t let them tell you art is a hopeless pursuit art my friends is pursuing light for the hopeless.

When I think of things that fade from reach I see birds and balloons, life and love, me and you.

Having lots of money while not having inner peace is like dying of thirst while bathing in the ocean.

Well, to the people who pray for me to not only have an agonising death, but then be reborn to have an agonising and horrible eternal life of torture, I say, ‘Well, good on you. See you there.’

To many Americans, everything from the Easter morning to the Ascension had to be made up by the groveling enthusiasts as part of their plan to get themselves martyred.

Prince a true artist in every sense of the world. Gone way too soon.

A lot of people heard ‘Murda Business’ and thought it was about killing people, trying to be tough and hardcore. If you actually listen to the lyrics, it’s kind of silly and playful.

He who died in place of us is the one object of my quest. He who rose for our sakes is my one desire.

The followers of Jesus did not die for what they believed – they died for what they claim to have seen.

My fingers in your mouth when I’m inside you, I could almost die from the feeling before I explode.