“You made me realize that i could be loved and beautiful too, that i could be counted amongst the moon and stars too.”

And if they ask you about my love, tell them of all the times you broke my heart and how i still loved you the same.

I honor pain, for it is because of pain my touch has become tender, my words kinder and my heart humbler.

Fault was neither yours nor mine, its just that it wasn’t the right time.

My heart will always be more yours than it will ever be mine.

I’m just as broken as i seem not to be.

I had gone so blind in fixing your broken pieces i forgot to see how you kept breaking mine.

You said i was your forever, so where are you now my lover?

Ripped in pieces soaked in love, unheard battles all won, I’m proud of you heart of what you’ve become.

Love is only pain in disguise.

Breathing is hard, my mind and heart both at war. This anxiety makes my living so hard!

If you knew the way you made my heart break and eyes tear, you would curse your existence .

I wonder how many heartaches must i conquer, to finally find a love that stays?

I am fire, carrying the potential to burn whole forests down, and only because it feels inconvenient i will not settle for a flame.

Don’t look at her kind eyes and mistake it for kindness, you are yet unaware about the audacity in her bones and strength in her veins.

I want someone to kiss my scars and tell me I’m beautiful still, that even after my scars I’m worthy to be loved and seen, i want someone to tell me that warriors do not come clean.

And in return for all the love i gave you, all you ever gave me was pain and heartbreak.

Anything forced is not beautiful.

Nature is beautiful because it looks like Art; and Art can only be called beautiful if we are conscious of it as Art while yet it looks like Nature.

Beauty is one way in which truth essentially occurs as unconcealment.

Beauty shames the ugly. Strength shames the weak. Death shames the living – and the Ideal shames us all.

Look closely. The beautiful may be small.

When I spoke of “beauty”, I was thinking of Rilke’s notion that the beautiful is nothing but the beginning of the terrible, and of Hölderlin’s idea that the beautiful can unite extreme opposites in intimacy.

Beauty presents an indeterminate concept of Understanding, the sublime an indeterminate concept of Reason.

Human beings are actually created for the transcendent, for the sublime, for the beautiful, for the truthful, and all of us are given the task of trying to make this world a little more hospitable to these beautiful things.