Michael Faudet Quotes

I write because you exist.

Good night - may you fall asleep in the arms of a dream, so beautiful, you'll cry when you awake.

I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.

I’m not a complicated girl, she laughed, I just want to run away with you, rob a bank, fall in love and eat ice creams in Paris.

The saddest truth is realising you have fallen madly in love with what can never be.

A mind possessed by unmade books.

Love and loss share the same unmade bed.

I could taste the salt on her lips, each kiss like a summer wave breaking on an empty beach.

Lost is a lovely place to find yourself.

I suddenly realised it's no coincidence the two middle letters of life are if.

Hypnotized I am hypnotized Sleepwalking to the rhythm of your words, Never wishing to wake-

I spend most nights at home falling in love with the idea of you.

So fierce is the passion that burns within my heart ,a raging forest fire,unstoppable and consuming.

She was the kind of girl who loved to stretch out under the sheets, eating chocolate, reading books and fucking on rainy afternoons.

She loved to spend rainy afternoons lost in thought, her hand daydreaming beneath the fabric of her floral panties.

Magic tumbled from her pretty lips and when she spoke the language of the universe– the stars sighed in unison.

Falling in love is not rational. It's madness. A beautiful, wonderful moment of magnificent insanity.

There is no perfect ending to a relationship. No magic formula. Just a silent scream as they rip your fucking heart out.

I have cried an ocean for you but still your ship refuses to sail.

I never understood desire until i felt your hands around my throat.

Unbutton, unzip, unclip, untie, undo, undress.” “Understood,” she replied.

I live in a peculiar world," she said, "in a place where reality ends and a fiction begins. Maybe that's why I love you.

Falling so madly in love with you is a tragedy. Nothing in my world will ever seem so beautiful again.

A mind possessed by unmade books, unwritten lines on empty hooks.

She was a curious girl, a wanderer, who spent her summers chasing fluttering pieces of prose and eating strawberries.

I'm a strange girl, hopelessly lost and terribly confused. What's worse, I think I may have fallen madly in love with you.

We fell asleep as lovers do, listening to the raindrops pitter-patter on the old tin roof, hands entwined and souls secretly smiling.

I believe in you." Words that water flowers.

My heart has become a broken compass. Every time I try to leave you, I always find myself running back into your arms.

She had a mind like a box of fireworks and hands that played recklessly with matches.

Summer Storm She was wild, unpredictable, beautiful, and dangerous. Impossible to resist. A summer storm in a bikini.

Another day spent slipping away from you.

Do you ever feel guilty?” she asked, clutching a flower to her chest. “Yes,” I replied. “But only because it has taken me so long to realize who I am and what truly stirs my heart.

Nobody knows your heart better than you. Trust your instincts. Never let anyone cast a shadow over your sunshine.

You were my beautiful mistake and I don't regret anything. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

We all make mistakes. Mine was falling madly in love and forgetting to pack a parachute.

I suddenly realized it’s no coincidence the two middle letters of life are if. For every action we make, there is a reaction. The outcome often beyond our control, fragile and fraught with ruinous consequences. Like a soap bubble made real by a gentle breath only to be taken by it.

lost is a lovely place to find yourself

Always fight for love-walk barefoot across the jagged shards of a broken heart but never become its victim.

Absence doesn't always make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes it just teaches us that we can live apart.

Sometimes we are so generous with our love, so willing to give it all away, we leave nothing behind for ourselves.

Gold Love is the real currency - the true wealth we all possess. Spend it wisely.

I've always longed to turn the last page of a romantic novel but it seems my life is destined to remain a book of short stories.

In every relationship, there is a defining piece of music, film, or literature. One that permeates through the length of every love story.

Picking up the pieces of a broken relationship is like gathering up shards of glass with bear hands and eyes closed.

words are strange creatures

Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you've been dying to read

I'm not the kind of girl who wants her name tattooed on your arm," she purred. "Think of me as your dirty little secret.

Her kisses were the wings of butterflies, beating softly upon lips of crushed petals.

Magic tumbled from her pretty lips and when she spoke the language of the universe–the stars sighed in unison.

Her kisses reminded me of lemon slices drizzled with sticky honey. Bitter, sweet and strangely irresistible.

I cannot begin to fathom the intricate nature of love, the endless "whys" and the cold reality of "because.

She had a habit of walking around in white cotton panties and writing poetry on the back of crumpled envelopes.

I became so obsessed with you, that I even convinced myself that you loved me.

Perfume: Her perfume reminded me of freshly picked flowers and sticky candyfloss, mixed with a gentle hint of debauchery.

True Love True love is elusive, she said. Sometimes I think it’s as rare as a red moon on a cloudless night.

When chasing love at any cost— The pathways meet but seldom cross.

We spoke of wolves and many things, of ticking clocks and circus swings, how crying doves fly up above, but most of all we spoke of love.

It was always about you. Seldom me. And never us.

Do you know what really turns me on? What I find incredibly sexy? Kindness.

Even the most eloquent lie becomes vulgar when exposed to the truth.

Keeping her trapped within the insecurities that he created.

How beautiful - to live a lie. To imagine - you and me together. To catch a glimpse of a shooting star. Piercing the darkness of my loneliness.

She was a muse cursed with melancholia, her tears the ink on my typewriter ribbon.

Cry for me, not when I'm dead, for that will be too late- cry for me now while I'm still here, to kiss your tears away.

Good Night May you fall asleep in the arms of a dream, so beautiful, you’ll wake up crying.

Kisses dream of lips like yours.

So many promises wrapped up in excuses, always tomorrow but never today.

You asked me to give you a second chance and all you gave me back was a repeated mistake.

I could watch a million sunrises and still never see one quite as beautiful as your eyes slowly opening in the morning.

Yes, it can be a struggle to pull ourselves out of the oozing mud of negativity and pettiness. But when we do, it’s remarkable how liberating it feels to be back in control of our lives.

Run towards your dream, and never let anyone fill your pockets with rocks.

Gratitude Take nothing for granted. Even a rock will eventually surrender to the sea and love can slip away like sand through fingers.

I can take you to a secret place, somewhere not far from here, where the desert stars sing lullabies to the brokenhearted.

A lull in the storm. The sparkle of sunshine held by the rain. This is how love feels. Just when you thought everything was lost.

To fall in love - is what I feared the most. To have my heart dragged - from pillar to post. To discover a certainty, was just - an almost.

The truth is, the harsh reality of love, is that it’s fickle, mostly fleeting, and seldom ticks every single box if we do find it.

Love is a rebellious spirit that doesn’t seek permission or ask for approval.

I dream of dreams— Once dreamt, now lost. How sunshine steals from autumn frost.

Of course I remember. How could I possibly forget a memory tattooed onto my heart?

I knew I had to set you free. To put my feelings aside and let love slip through my fingers. It wasn't easy. But if you try to keep hold of a butterfly - you run the risk of crushing it.

Lost Love I found you, hidden by crooked fingers of gnarly wood and leafy green, a pale ghost, drifting like morning mist, through haunted trees and forest birdsong. You come to me in waning moonlight, your story told on icy skin, the pages pale, with purple kisses, walking barefoot and breathless, toward my heart. You found me, buried deep beneath this earthly blanket, of thorny twigs and weeping mud, two lovers torn now bound together, in joyful death we make our bed.

You lived for books, lost within a dusty world of turned pages, each sentence read a breath drawn, every word— the blood rushing through your veins, how I wished I was a story, inside a book, held lovingly in your hands, never to be put down.

She stole my words I wrote with my lips, a broken heart is seldom missed, by those who write another's name, upon the lips I love - in vain.

She stole my words I wrote with lips, a broken heart is seldom missed, by those who write another’s name, upon the lips I loved- in vain.

Stillness There is a certain stillness, when even the gentle flutter of a butterfly's wing feels like a hurricane. The moment when crashing waves fall asleep, peaceful, lost to the serenity of salty dreams. When tall trees stand to attention and every leaf pauses, takes a deep breath and holds it. It is here, beneath the maddening silence I hear your name. An echo of you.

There's no denying we had chemistry and a strong desire to be together. Yet somehow you were never willing to make a commitment. Close but never close enough.

You once told me that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for finding love.

In matters of love it's tempting to be picky. But never forget, inside every cherry, no matter how delicious - you'll always find a stone.

How precarious the fine line between acceptance and rejection. Yet, here I am again - placing another bet on the table. Going all in. Willing to risk everything for a chance to win this stupid game we call love.

Just when I thought my life was going in the right direction—disappointment was waiting around the corner.

Proximity We joined the dots from A to B, the line we drew from you to me, traced empty shores across the sea, over mountain top, past forest tree, along the roads and walking tracks, all bridges burned, no looking back, for the love we have, no gate can stop, no barking dog or bolted lock, for what is real is meant to be, when two hearts beat— in proximity.

You can't remove my scars or rewrite the past that haunts me. Just hold me tight and tell me everything's going to be okay.

You became invisible, a ghost haunting the ruins of a heart left broken, where love once burned, so quickly taken, like a bucket of water thrown on a fire, all trace of warmth- forsaken.