“You were the easiest to love. Hardest to leave. And impossible to forget.”

Clean your slate. Empty your cup. Let every moment. Fill you up.

He said he cannot read in between the lines. And I have poured all my heart there.

If I am to be only a passing season in your life, I hope I be spring.

Let me be like the leaves on the trees. Let me sway with the gentlest breeze.

If trees looked at fallen leaves and gave up, we would have no forests.

Not all love lives forever. But is it not love still? The maybe and the almost. And the love that never will.

I have loved you and missed you all for so long. That even this feeling feels like home.

You’re the kind of song, I want to hear on repeat. For a lifetime.

Like the endless stars in the skies. I love you, more than you know. And I miss you, more than I am allowed.

Maybe when I pour my words on paper. Maybe it’ll feel like how it might feel wrapping you in my arms.

When you love, I hope you don’t sail. I hope you drown.

Be your own flower. And bloom.

Just because you’re leaving, doesn’t mean I’m letting go.

I was supposed to be your sunshine. But it rained.

Like flowers, I hope, My love makes you bloom.

I’m a little bit scared of how you make me feel.

If you don’t suffer, you don’t get anything. Nothing easy in life.

I’m the last of the truly tacky women. I do trash with flash and sleaze with ease.

Some guys, football comes really easy to them; they can see what all 22 players are doing, can see what all 11 guys are doing on their side of the ball, how it all fits together. It’s easy for them.

You don’t need easy, you just need possible.

The music is the main thing and it’s just as easy to write acceptable words.

“We all hated the war in Vietnam.” Well, it was easy to hate the war in Vietnam 40 years on.

If only I had the Theorems! Then I should find the proofs easily enough.

Commuting in a wheelchair is not easy. I live in a very old part of Rome. These cobbles everywhere… terrible! In London, it is the same. Every pavement is uneven.