Extending Your Hand Is Extending Yourself.

The Journey Back Is Always Longer Than The Forward Run.

I Cannot Speculate On What Our Cluttered Mind Will Save- Sleepy Sundays, Or A Nosebleed After Love. I Know Only The Dying Heart Needs The Nourishment Of Memory To Live Beyond Too Many Winters.

If You Love Somebody, Tell Them.

Love Is A Sweet Thing Caught A Momentand Held In A Golden Eye.

It's Nice Sometimes To Open Up The Heart A Little And Let Some Hurt Come In. It Proves You're Still Alive.