“She is the moon covered in the dress of stars.”

I miss how her whisky lips used to run all over me.

I am just a star in the space of her memories.

My eyes thread of happiness leads back to you.

You were the hardest lesson I ever had to learn.

It’s hard to breathe when she is not around.

She is the answer to my every prayer.

Missing you come in waves. Tonight I am just drowning.

She is whisky in a teacup.

The most dangerous drug I know has brown eyes and a heartbeat.

She left the room. I am still talking to her fragrance.

Her voice still echoes in my void heart.

You smell so close when I am drunk in love.

The meaning of life has suddenly appeared in the spark of her eyes.

The stars, they keep talking about you.

Sad birds still sing.

Her eyes are my favorite book to read.

Crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.

music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts.

When you choose the behaviour, you choose the consequence.

We have never heard the devil’s side of the story, God wrote all the book.

How nice – to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.

Raised voices lower esteem. Hot tempers cool friendships. Loose tongues stretch truth. Swelled heads shrink influence. Sharp words dull respect.

The key to happiness doesn’t lay in numbers in a bank account but in the way we make others feel and the way they make us feel.

Racism is a grown-up disease, and we should stop using our kids to spread it.