Akif Kichloo Quotes

So often we confuse mistakes for soul mates, lessons for lovers, and at the same time worthy life partners for one-night stands. It’s an epidemic.

we were never a match; always a marvelous misfit.

The tragedy of love is in its ending, the blessing—everything else. No love ever deserves to end.

When the night comes to break my heart, I think of you.

I don't know if you know, but sometimes, hearts have to love in pieces too.

Love me like my demons do.

The universe on your skin is empty from all the silence on your tongue. Forgive yourself. Let your body heal from all the wounds you did not inflict on yourself. Drop the sword you carry on your shoulder for self-defense. Lower the armor you hold high up for protection. Those who harmed you are not going to come back. Those who have left never intended to return.

Find yourself. And if you don’t like what you see, re-create yourself. But first, please, find yourself.

The art of leaving and the art of loving are not the same.

The opposite of grief is not laughter or happiness or joy. It is love. It is love. It is love.

Of course we get hurt in love. We have this immense need to immerse violence into love. As if a love that doesn't devastate is less of a verb. As if a rain that doesn't drown wouldn't make the trees grow.

That window which connects you to the agony of other people; that’s your soul. Close that window and you are soulless. And a soulless man is vestigial. He hears but cannot listen. He sees but cannot notice. And everyone knows: when eyes and ears become jobless, We look for excuses. We hear angels and devils speak. We confabulate. We make up gods and lick their feet. —Superstitions

People often compare depression to drowning. That is not even close. Consider sitting in a dark room scared and confused— Choking on something you know nothing about, For reasons you cannot comprehend. That is depression. When you are drowning, you can still flail your arms, call for help, and try your best to keep afloat. In depression, you do nothing. Absolutely nothing.

What if the poem loses? What if it never tastes victory like the intent it was written with?

She is a woman. No matter how hard you think she has grown, she always has her softer parts. Feel her there.

I have a body too young and a mind full of years. Everything in me has witnessed its own ending. I have lived through nightmares and perished in blissful dreams. What all that’s left— eats me from within but still melts me from without, and that is where my humility takes birth.

They came and they left. You cried, but you stood your ground. You stayed tethered to hope as well as committed to dignified dreams and little victories of day-to-day life. You felt different. Then you started to change. Your smile returned with reticence before completely taking over your face. Today, you are no longer afraid to let that smile be there, and now you understand it was not about them. It was never about anyone else. This was about you from the day you were born. This was about you learning to love yourself— not letting the inferiority of the external corrupt the piety of the internal. This was your personal revolution. This was the uprising of your lifetime. And you won.