There is only one you. Stop trying to devalue yourself by trying to be a copy of someone else.

Foggy nights bring some comfort.He can get lost in the mistand there is no one to stare or question.

How do I learn to speakwhen silence is all I know?

But the walls of my resolvemortared with stubbornnesshave been breached by circumstancesI cannot handle alone.

Let me live my final days whole.Let my memory remain that I might know love's face.Life don't unwrap me to be fed to scavengers.I want to escape into light - not exist in darkness.

I seek to be moved, my imagination reborn.Let me feast on poems that feed my hunger.

A dream doesn't die because it has no truth. It dies because you fail to nurture it.

I now know how your angercame from skeletonsthat rattled in your heartand you couldn't escape them.

I am lost in my world, invisible - unknown.Moon please lend meyour light that someonewill me see me.

If there is passion, let me feel its heat.I want my heart to beat fast, my breath raspy, my skin to burn.

I am a butterfly poetbirthed from painflying with the freedomof my verses.

Spanish—how shall I say this?—is likePortuguese spoken with a speech impediment.

If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.

The books, the authors who matter the most are those who speak to me and speak for me all those things about life I most need to hear as the confession of myself

Whatever we really are, that let us be, in all fearlessness. Whatever we are not, that let us cease striving to be.

I dread specialists in power because they are specialists speaking outside of their special subject.

Everything psychic is pregnant with the future.

True ecstasy is stepping out of the bondage of the time-bound, space-bound world. We long to be free of fear and limitation. We hunger to experience our infinite, unbounded Self.

The way advanced meditation is taught, the way I teach it, the way all enlightened people teach it, is through transference. We transfer light and power to someone else.

Waiting on God means increasing purity.

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.