I wear my past around my shoulders as a fine, but worn, cloak. Don't be fooled by my cloak's appearance, I have a three piece underneath.

Though I exist in the realms of day and night, I'm only truly alive in the moments between.

And once the ripples still and the water returns to its unwavering calm, even the pebble that broke its surface will be forgotten. And the world will go on.

I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.

She's an array of undiscovered words, of feeling beyond my threshold. I'm just a man, trying to hold himself together in her wake.

The flicker, the flutter, even thoughts can stutter.

It was her eyes. Soft, meadow-shade eyes with frostbitten edges. Every glance casually held gossamer infinity. Every stare revealed inky black abyss with a hint of divinity.

Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.

She was carmine shadows reflecting from my crimson words. Every pulse sent a velvet ripple through the shade. Every breath, a scarlet pause.

With ravenous passion and reckless ambition he forged his thoughts into words, obsessed with the notion that dying would not be the last thing he would do.

He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.

Name the different kinds of people, ’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living, ’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘... Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.

The grace of being is gift of baptism by washing in water. And in Spirit of Christ Jesus.

There is no future, there is not past, I live this moment as my last, there's only this, forget regret, no other road, no other way, no day but today

The worst thing you can do to a kid is tell them that their dreams are invalid.

Stop whining; start enjoying. And when you look back at the past, make sure you're smiling.

The room is so small, when I put the key in, I broke the window!

My life is an open book. With illustrations.

I was on the computer the other day and typed my name into Google. Everything on there was bad. I hope in a few years there might be something there about me playing football.

I secretly understood: the primitive appeal of the hearth. Television is - its irresistible charm - a fire.

You take me in, no questions asked. You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me. Are you an angel?