“Some conversations feel like a hug. Some people feel like home.”

The flowers you don’t water, will never bloom.

And sometimes they leave not because they didn’t love enough. But maybe because love isn’t everything.

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.

True happiness arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one’s self, and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.

Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated.

Don’t knock the weather; nine-tenths of the people couldn’t start a conversation if it didn’t change once in a while.

Be politically correct, but please don’t bother other people with conversation about being politically correct, because that’s the end of everything. You want to create boredom? Be politically correct in your conversation.

Someone asked if I wanted to be the first female Bond, and I was saying that I don’t think we necessarily need that whole conversation.

As a child I wanted to be a grown-up. I wanted to know everything – not that I like to talk about it. I hate intellectual conversation with intellectuals because I only care about my opinion.

It’s hilarious a lot of times. You have a conversation with someone, and he’s like, ‘You speak so well!’ I’m like, ‘What do you mean? Do you understand that’s an insult?

The very old certainly do not go back on lunch remains but they do bite back at old conversational topics.