“That warmth feeling- the one and only you and I ever know – and share.”

Tastes and preferences change with time, But I fall in love with you daily.

Love yourself through all storms, calm moments and boredom – know you deserve love.

So when you’re sleeping, I try so hard to sleep too- for more time with you.

Love inside you that no one else can ever know – reserved for you.

Always choose love- you may not be loved in return – love may still find you.

Healing will come from within, but I’ll make sure you never feel alone.

So don’t be afraid – you were meant to rise above your ceiling of doubt.

Fill all the spaces between the broken pieces of you – with patience.

I still think of you and that’s okay as long as I keep on moving.

Doing the right thing often requires patience that tests your intent.

Knowing what you want, but not living that way – as motivation waits.

Everything you’ve done may be undone for you to accomplish much more.

Letting go of you finally taught me what it meant to truly love you.

Giving up your life to live for someone else will sacrifice true love.

You are everything to me, that includes every broken piece of you.

Our connection will last – even as we walk down separate, winding paths.

Just as there comes a warm sunbeam into every cottage window, so comes a lovebeam of God’s care and pity for every separate need.

It is not the clear-sighted who rule the world. Great achievements are accomplished in a blessed, warm fog.

He had come to know quite thoroughly the world in which he lived. His outlook was bleak and materialistic. The world as he saw it was a fierce and brutal world, a world without warmth, a world in which caresses and affection and the bright sweetness of spirit did not exist.

If heat rises, then heaven must be hotter than hell.

PRE. For your dedication and loyalty to your principles and beliefs. For your love,warmth and friendship. For your family and friends. You are missed by so many and you will never be forgotten.

May your cold nights die a warm death.

I warned you not to play with matches but you said you loved the heat. Darling, the inferno warms you but it spreads like wildfire. Now, we’re both in ruins.

The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying.