Music itself has taught me never to underestimate a mistake, for, in the midst of all, it’s often in that mistake where the realm of the unexpected creation is hidden.

Now me and musicplay hide and seek.

To hide away from the world whose loveless heart has gone astrayand its inhabitants what could be a safer place than my imagination?

I cover the floor with a thin layer of imagination so that i’ll always land softly.

Such dreams provide this temporary illusion of a life that has meaning.

you’re ignoring me so loud that it’s deafening. This silence is so deep that it’s echoing.

the pavement makes no soundas it touches your feetcalm and constantlike silence on repeatlanguidly your thoughts bleedinto the evening airin crimson red the words read'some things are beyond repair

To think that two bodies, crooked by life into question marks, when encountering one another did not form a heart.. To do that, all we needed was to look each other in the eye. But you looked away.

it’s miraculous how the shallow can injure in such a profound way.

I love it when there’s nothingLeft to see but tiny spots of what’s still lightStories piercing the night.

The skin of her face, parched by the monotonous dietof salty rain, with tremendous effortgave wayto a smile.

In life, we are constantly growing.There are no true adults because our life experiences and sometimes unfortunate conditions show us that constant growth is part of the human story.

Imaginary (thinking) leads to bliss of the mind and the true (real thinking) leads to bliss of the Self (Soul).

We often end our journeys without beginning them. We learn about the world without knowing ourselves.

I am a great scholar, my mind is full of wonders.

I was young not too long ago, and I know the last thing you want is someone preaching to you.

Feeding the media is like training a dog. You can't throw an entire steak at a dog to train it to sit. You have to give it little bits of steak over and over again until it learns.

It's better to have the faith to embrace reality with all its pain than to cling to the false comfort of a painless fantasy.

The Turkish road is not my model because I am critical of the way you are dealing with freedom of expression, of how you are dealing with the treatment of minorities, and your economic vision.

As life grows more terrible, its literature grows more terrible.

Cunning is the dwarf of wisdom.