“Skin on skin his heart beat an orchestra against her chest. Love never tires of music like this.”

There is no road less travelled than the one that leads into the sea. But the waves will always take you to where you need to be.

Morning mist like a blanket to dawn, obscures the hope of a new day. Yet the sunrises high, and the blanket falls and hope returns to the stage.

Take me from this wasteland, for I have longed for an escape like a bird that craves the wilderness, from every corner of his cage.

Sometimes it is not about the touch at all it is about the hands they belong too.

Bitter sweet rose her thorns pierce every bone, but her lustful petals fall like bandaids for bleeding sores.

A flower grows where it is planted but love grows everywhere.

Mountains speak in peaks and troughs. Just like life. And just like love.

I will always have a little bit of the wild in me. Always remembering what a good heart tastes like. Like love, that never ends. Like you.

Some days I wonder how I can become more then I think of you and I grow with love.

We choose our gardens based on what will bloom, and we wait out the seasons, until they do. And sometimes, love needs patience too.

Catch my fall as my wings ignite with love and the sky and I unite.

I’ve been that children, learning to walk. Somedays I’ve fallen, and some days I’ve crawled. But the steps, they grew. And so did my strength. And then I let go of your hand.

You are the book I keep closed, for some stories are not easy to read. But flowers bloom in between like the story is still alive.

The more I branch out, the less lonely I feel. I often wonder if trees are like that, too.

She teaches me I am boundless and free. She teaches me my past does not define me.

Love me later when the sun fades into the horizon and the distance between you and I melts away.

And all I loved, I loved alone.

I knew you tried to change the ending.

I’ve never known a man worth his salt who, in the long run, deep down in his heart, didn’t appreciate the grind, the discipline.

Our hearts have been made for you, O God, and they shall never rest until they rest in you.

If I could but know his heart, everything would become easy.

What you must understand about me is that I’m a deeply unhappy person.

At the heart of every legend there is a grain of truth.

A man`s ego is just as fragile as a woman`s heart.