Love can be all things.But, Just never enough.

His pen spoke more to her than he ever did”.In the war of words, some are unwritten and some are unspoken.

After all these years, all I know is, I need not to do anything as a part of remorse.All I need is to write.Because, 'Poetry forgives.

The world is made out of Nutella. You just need to stick your tongue out, so that you could really taste it.

For one more time, he decided to give away smoking.And then, she happened one more time in his head.

He was lying there on his death bed, and he asked for her as his last wish.She came with tears in her eyes. He held her hand and said with a smile, " I wish I died daily", And then a flat line.

Is there a particular way of looking at your love?” she asked.…..Yes… The way you look at me.

Until I knew that it was you inside me, who has so much to say, I hesitated writing.

You are so adorable. You can never be bad. Everyone has a hysterical part in himself, and I may be that part you. I’m just a lunatic. Maybe, a demon. And you.You’re the world.

In the search of spark, we forget the beauty of darkness. We forget the purpose of the light.

In the room full of individuals for whom I hold feelings of resentment about, Who might be the first I would converse with, when I am about to bite the dust?

The creature may not haste above the maker

Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief

Architecture is about public space held by buildings.

Photography promises an enhanced mastery of nature, but photography also threatens conflagration and anarchy.

In war, important events result from trivial causes.

A few can touch the magic string, and noisy fame is proud to win them: Alas for those that never sing, but die with all their music in them!

The great majority of men, especially in France, both desire and possess a fashionable woman, much in the way one might own a fine horse - as a luxury befitting a young man.

America's present need is not heroics but healing; not nostrums but normalcy; not revolution but restoration.

No man would, I think, exchange his existence with any other man, however fortunate. We had as lief not be, as not be ourselves.