“I’m just a typewriter of the small universe of you and me I write memories into words and it becomes poetry.”

Sometimes, “I love you’s” are just hard words ’cause they make me regret that I’m not at that moment beside you. – Distances.

Do you see how the sky holds the stars so softly so that they twinkle till eternity? Sky,”I’ll never let you go”

Feeling understood by one particular person is like holding a universe that solely belongs to you.

Perfect was sick of being called an “illusion” so it refined itself to “Loving You”. -Glories with you.

My days are a series of “I wish you were here” moments – All my roads lead to you.

A million ways I have pondered upon what your eyes convey -but this time, I wouldn’t. -There is beauty in stillness.

The sunshine crackling through the clouds reminds me that no matter what, I can overcome any obstacle.

I am okay if your love doesn’t make me feel the world to me it makes me feel myself and that’s beyond everything. – Recognization

I am more comfortable in our ache I mean, it’s more peaceful than to exist without you.

I have heard much about “Love is everything” but at times all you need is just one thing – yourself and that’s also love.

I wait for you in moments I cannot see. -Unrequited.

I have endured all the wrong people only to reach to the right one.

At times, I need to let go of all mistakes I made and believe that could a better person than before. -That belief is the courage I need.

To be more comfortable in someone else’s definition of love. I think, that’s what we all long for.

I whispered my heart your name and it smiled in rapid heartbeats.

I’ll keep you mine even when you and I are not ‘US’; and with all our memories, I will pretend that it’s enough.

History is the memory of States.

Here’s a memory, which like most memories is imperfect and subjective—collected long ago like a beach pebble and slipped into the pocket of my mind.

The heart of marriage is memories; and if the two of you happen to have the same ones and can savor your reruns, then your marriage is a gift from the gods.

In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! we are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory.

Pay heed to the tales of old wives. It may well be that they alone keep in memory what it was once needful for the wise to know.

It’s better to have something to remember than anything to regret.

Commending myself to your kind memories, I wish you pleasant holidays.

Memories are not recycled like atoms and particles in quantum physics; they can be lost forever.