A chronic poet should always be an inveterate nature-lover.

Until you let go of that bitterness in your heart, it will find a comfortable place to destroy your dreams, your sight and most times, your sleep.

To begin to know ourselves we must have sincere conversations with ourselves as if with a good friend. We must answer without reserve, listen without judgement, and accept without condition. That is self-love.

Can we share my eyes so you can see what I see?Can we share my ears so you can hear what I hear?Can you perch on my shouldersso you can go where I go?Always in my heart, I don’t experience anything separate from you.This shared wonderment becomes doubled.This shared love becomes infinite.

NOT UNTIL I MET YOUNot until I felt your sunshine,Did I realize that I had been in the shade.Not until I saw all your colors,Did I realize that mine had faded.Not until I heard your dreams,Did I realize that I was still sleeping.And not until I experienced my life with you,Did I realize that I was barelyBreathing.

Ancient lovers believed a kiss would literally unite their souls, because the spirit was said to be carried in one's breath.

I never wanted to be a martyr—even for love. I don’t want to die for love. I want to live for it.

I think falling in love is like discovering the magic of books. You think to yourself, 'how was I living before this?

She was my friend. Briefly, she was my lover. She was braver than I ever would have been in the moment of death. And I bet she was a hell of a shooting star.

Oh yes! I have couple-goals too. I love to couple myself with- Books, Coffee and Mountains.