Poetry is one of my guilty pleasures and I want to thank you poets for providing me with beautiful words that I can devour and selfishly indulge in any time I want. ♥-Nina Jean Slack

The real you is not sad, angry, depressed, ashamed, hurt, bitter or lost. These things are not real. They feel real but they're not. As spiritual beings living a brief human existence, this is not who we are. We are beautiful, radiant, joyful and loving.

Seriously, why aren't you on drugs?" Cath walked past her out of the room."Are you a licensed psychiatrist? Or do you just play one on TV?""I'm on drugs," Reagan said. "They're a beautiful thing.

I felt sure of this. However much I loved him, and as beautiful as the world was, none of it was powerful enough to take the weight off his heart, that heaviness that dragged him down, into the beyond, making him yearn to be at peace.

I ask you, what would you do if you could erase one bad memory and retain all that was beautiful in your life? Would you not move heaven and earth - and get loads of therapy - to have that?

Then an odd thing happened. Britney put her finger on the ridge of the painted glass and rubbed it. It made a perfect noise. The kind of noise that goes on and on as a beautiful noise does once it has wrung the ear. It was the chord of the wild sea.

Missing someone is the reverberating echo of everything beautiful about her—her laugh, her song, her touch, her smell, the power of her words, and the constant shadow that lingers on as her perfect image in your memory.

An amber sunset, a flowing river, a snow capped mountain, a beautiful heart, a calm mind, deep eyes, the moon, the earth and the sky - they are all silent. It's the words that give them meaning, decipher their essence and share their message.

It was quite a beautiful thing, the way we simply just came to be. With no effort or trying, just slowly finding each other’s hands in the dark. No chains or promises, just a simple sign of hopethat things will go on and get better.

The young girl inspected her flounces and smoothed her ribbons again; and Winterbourne presently risked an observation upon the beauty of the view. He was ceasing to be embarrassed, for he had begun to perceive that she was not in the least embarrassed herself.