Dual furnaces where the dancer stokes his own doom.

For the heart is an organ of fire, stellar power, truth, beauty, and love.

Ripped from the pages of imagination to live as a fabricated memory.

I gush so many words for fear that each one may someday be my last. This is a terrible and a wonderful fear.

if you plan to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you’d better first make sure they are some big fucking shoulders.

I burn, she steadies; my wild flame finds home in the shelter of her love.

To give love is to receive it; to receive love is to give it.

A little Dorothy Parker from 1926

Sometimes, love burns too brightly to be held in the palm.

No map could find the place where they first felt seen.