If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character…Would you slow down? Or speed up?

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Since we’re all going to die, it’s obvious that when and how don’t matter.

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you,
At incredible speed, traveling day and night,
Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents,
through narrow passes.
But will he know where to find you,
Recognize you when he sees you,
Give you the thing he has for you?

False enchantment can last a lifetime.

Sometimes you almost miss the way it felt to get your heart broken for the first time

I wanted to tell you that I’m not afraid of being moved anymore;
Not afraid of this heart packing up its things and flying transcontinental
with only a wool coat and a pocket with a folded-up address inside.

I’ve saved up enough money to disappear.
I know you never thought the day would come.

Do you remember when we said goodbye and promised that
it was only for then? It’s been years since I last saw you, years
since we last have spoken.

Sometimes, it gets quiet enough that I can hear the cicadas rubbing their thighs
against each other’s.

I’ve forgotten almost everything about you already, except that
your skin was soft, like the belly of a peach, and
how you would laugh,
making fun of me for the way I pronounced almonds
like I was falling in love
with language.

The things she most wanted to tell him would lose their meaning the moment she put them into words.

I hope when you die you get to see your stats like how many times you laughed or told a lie or kissed or how many people loved you and how many people hated you and what you meant to people