This is cute. That is all.

“Letters are the most intimate form of travel.”

At the end of the day, we are all just walking each other home.

I watched an artist battle his demons, and I understood completely.

If love is the current, then let prayer be the tide — carrying us home to each other and to Him.

Mademoiselle, you are a woman not finished — nor even as you are, like the river is never the same, but never ends, you too are always becoming.

The first real poem I ever write, will be in skin.

All that is gold does not glitter; all that wanders is not lost.

Bohemian life forever! Let me write beautifully!

There is no shame in desire, only in denying it.