Do not delay in exposing your vulnerabilities. You may end up with fewer friends but the remaining ones will likely be true.

I bask in the gentle silence that allow us to be together and apart.

It is at times lonely and at others lovely to be an important Someone to some while being nobody’s One.

I have known the love of friendship more intimately than any other. And while I may be biased by my experiences I believe it to be the highest and purest form of love. For it is not determined or bound by duty, blood, biological instinct or legal contracts. It is a choice and, as such, allows us to keep our wings.

Speak to a loved one as if for the first time and you may discover that you are meeting them for the first time.

You are a beating heart, a falling tear, a pulsing vein and a joyful shout. Do not quiet yourself or wither away for our comfort. Let us confront our fragility so that we may feel the joy of loving you for what you are.

My hands have touched few but my heart compensates by holding many.

Nothing brings out the light in me more than a loved one who can accompany me in the dark.

Almost everything the world has to offer leaves me floored. I cannot love by halves. I cannot see beauty without being moved to tears. I cannot feel understood without overwhelming gratitude. I cannot experience a work of art without ebullience. Life comes to me as a torrential downpour–I tilt my head back, open my arms and allow myself to be soaked.

I hasten a retreat into imagination not because I despise the rain, but to catch my breath, soothe my heart and recover my childlike eyes.

I was given a tiny pot of daisies when I moved into my apartment. They are plain yellow daisies–nothing especially beautiful about them. Were they in a large field of flowers they would look unremarkable.

Neither is there anything special about the tin pot in which they live. Left in the garden section of a home goods store, it would reside at the dusty bottom of a neglected clearance bin.

I love these flowers because they wilt every single day. And every single day a tiny splash of water brings them instantaneously back to life. They are beautiful because they are fragile and resilient. I care for them because they show me their hurt as well as their joy.

If these flowers were a person, they would be my friend.