honey sighs

"That’s how love is,” she used to say. “If the love is true, then treat it the same way you would a plant — feed it, protect it from the elements — you must do absolutely everything you can, but if it isn’t true, then it’s best to just let it wither on the vine."

It's all right, it's all right, the day will come when you'll pull out of this.

Love reveals the beauty of seemingly trivial things.

How could I possibly come to terms with that warmth?

There are some things in this world that can be changed and some things that can't. And time passing is one thing that can't be redone. Come this far and you can't go back. After a certain length of time has passed, things harden. Like cement in a bucket. And we can't go back any more. What you want to say is that the cement that makes you up has set, so the you you are now can't be anyone else.

I feel you there, in every pore.

Don’t ever put your happiness in someone else’s hands. They’ll drop it. They’ll drop it everytime.

All my life I believed I knew something. But then one strange day came when I realized that I knew nothing, yes, I knew nothing. And so words became void of meaning. I have arrived too late at ultimate uncertainty.

Here and there, on the trees, some leaves remain. And I often stand deep in thought before them. I contemplate a leaf and attach my hope to it. When the wind plays with the leaf, I tremble in every limb. And if it should fall, alas, my hope falls with it.

There is poetry written along your cheekbones and songs being sung through your veins. If you open your eyes, you can see that there is a sunrise-promise rising along our horizon, the whispering of something dangerously beautiful.

I don’t want a lukewarm love. I want it to burn my lips and engulf my soul.

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.