Love flows like flowers, and grows like water. I’m so thirsty for romance I could drink a dozen roses.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.

Whole life is a search for beauty. But, when the beauty is found inside, the search ends and a beautiful journey begins.

There are so many things to say; so many things that can’t really be said. So much has happened; so little has changed. We have so many words prepared; so many words are too hard...

A flowing flurry of flowers fell to the floor when I fell in love, as if my heart were a garden that gushed forth and flooded her being with the fragrance of romance.

The characters in my novels are my own unrealised possibilities. That is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one has crossed a border that I myself have...

some winterswill never meltsome summerswe’ll never freezeand some things will only… live in poems.

As an artist, i live in fantasy and flirt with reality. I’m an emotional magician of sorts. I paint my feelings onto the abstract canvas of a waking dream. I suspend my concepts in the...

And from the top of the building I look down upon the world and see the crowds of people in the city I have made and the world that I have created.This universe, my universe,...

The velvet tapestry of the night curved from horizon to horizon, flecked with thousands of tiny stars. There seemed all the more of them, for as well as filling the sky, they shimmered in an...

{Letter from Fawcett to the great Robert Ingersoll, 1894}I do so wish, that, in all these big questions, literary men would take you more for a guide than they do, or seem to do. You...

A loner by nature and an introvert… i am a twinkling star, burning bright amidst a cloudless night. As such, i tend to fade in and out of people’s lives. This aspect of me is...

One has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing.

The two of us snuggled like quotation marks in his room full of words.

Kept dreaming of this spot she had on her neck, this tiny country. I wanted to visit, to paint a picture of what I found there, a wall with a road map of her skin.

I don’t want my love with her to wither like grapes on a vine, so I’ll water it with romance to turn it into wine.

Gargoyles sat on the battlements- lean they were and the same hideous damp grey as the stone. They looked at her with hollow eyes and rattled their silver chains. They had wings of bats or...

Tell me..how do you stand there?filling the doorway….of my life.

You hung around the tattered edges of my soul, that’s where you preferred to be…

Painting is so poetic, while sculpture is more logical and scientific and makes you worry about gravity.

Solitude became, for me, an interesting mosaic of broken pieces, a place where the neglected parts of myself get collected—for better and for worse, sometimes barely tolerated and sometimes arranged into lovely patterns.

Thus I did with Susan as with most other things in my earlier days, dipping her image into my mind and coloring it of a thousand fantastic hues, before I could see her as she...

When you deserved it, even the mail could rape you.

I know, I know…there’s something cliché about that. The heroine initially wanting to clobber a protagonist male, but later realizing that he’s grown on her and she actually really likes him. Technically, I’m not supposed...

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

I am a tale, I am a book, written in different languages and styles I can’t be read, can’t be understood,neither by me nor the greatest of minds I am too big, I am too...

One of the most connective things we can do for ourselves, is to become world travelers of our own internal landscapes. What i love about creating art, is the excitement of turning that landscape inside...

Each moment is a poetic expression of the undefined. As long as it remains undefined, it has all the beauty of the world and it steps inside to nurture your dreams.

Kontrolsüzdüm. Kelimeleri telaffuz edişimden bile anlaşılıyordu kırgınlığım. Habersiz gidişine duyduğum dindirilemez öfke yeniden baş gösteriyordu. Hesap sormak için değil, beni öldürmesi için gelmiş gibiydim.

I love to feel the temperature drop and the wind increase just before a thunderstorm. Then I climb in bed with the thunder.

Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected.

When they had hurried to the train station with their violin cases, they had drawn almost as many stares as they would on any normal day when their hair was to their knees and sheeting...

I make sacrifices in reward of trinkets for my gilded cage.

The cork was in the bottle. He and the Atropos were trapped.

Knee-deep in the cosmic overwhelm, I’m strickenby the ricochet wonder of it all: the plaineverythingness of everything, in cahootswith the everythingness of everything else.- From Diffraction (for Carl Sagan)

Markings in dry clay disappearOnly when the clay is soft again.Scars upon the self disappearOnly when one becomes soft within.

Mistress Creation keeps calling my name… i long for her, and she, for me… we will be reunited soon. In the interim, i bide my time dreaming of her, writing about her and stretching her...

Driving down deserted early morning roads. Round and round. Round downtown. Through naked streets. Lips pursed on two litre bottles of beer, but pursuing the lips of freedom’s night. Swapping cars. Winding up at karaoke...

When that part of the woman meets with a man, all the flowers in the world suddenly bloom! All the birds of the world gather together and sing. The entire world turns golden, and your...

Parched by the deprivation of your love for so long made me forget what a cup brimming with love, on my lips, felt like. Everything that now wets it, only wrinkles it with a bland...

If I waste all my charity, all I’ll wind up with in the end is the wind. Still, I think I want to be the Dandelion of Love.

Genius in general is poetic. Where genius has been active it has been poetically active. The truly moral person is a poet.

The displacement of water is equal to the something of something.

There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another.

..so Grandpa turned the rusty latchkey of his magnificent remembery and set free a symphony of stories

Being Adam Parrish was a complicated thing, a wonder of muscles and organs, synapses and nerves. He was a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival. The most important thing to Adam Parrish, though,...

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Live a life abundant in love and rich in spirit, these are the seeds of a fulfilling existence. Be the safe harbor you seek in the world. Follow your dreams, not your fear. Go into...

No non-poetic account of reality can be complete.