"In the very end, all we have left to atone for our faults are words."

"These five words you utter make the sun rise again: “I’m going to come home.” How is it possible for one person to be the sole reason for my existence? When I hear you say these golden words, the warmth spreads from my stomach until it reaches my pulsating fingertips. How is it possible for one person to be the sole reason for my ecstasy? These five words your utter are even more precious when I’m holding you tight and you whisper only four of them. Because then, I’m really home."

"Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ..."

"You have made me a love poet."