David Alan Royster

Everything in life I’ve worked hard for; what makes you think I’d do you different?

Don’t confuse feelings with facts and don’t ignore facts when they come as feelings.

My father, soft as rainclouds, my mother, hard as hail, prepared me to take the world by storm.

It’s amazing what passes for love these days – crows parading as blue jays.

They are different now than they were. My mother never had to say she was a queen to be one. I instinctively knew. So it makes sense now that I am sorely confused by the women who try to convince me with words.

Trust. Above all, I ask for trust. You won’t know every thought that crosses my mind, but just know that they’re all for us.

I’m a different man now. I’m still a romantic, I still believe in love, but when I met Barbara I was looking for it. Now, I don’t know.

To love another person is to see the face of God.

When we know love matters more than anything, and we know that nothing else REALLY matters, we move into the state of surrender. Surrender does not diminish our power, it enhances it.

In my sex fantasy, nobody ever loves me for my mind.

What’s my hand without your heart to hold?

Love can be hard. Love requires you to be kind when you are angry, patient when you feel anxious, compassionate when you judge others, caring when you feel apathetic, trust when you’ve been wronged, let go when you want to hold on, know that the other person is you, take risks when you’re scared, to always see the lesson and never look back once you’ve decided. – Jackson Kiddard

She doesn’t let me have control anymore. I must’ve crossed a line, I must’ve lost my mind.

Loving him is like trying to hold onto an armful of balloons. Maybe I need someone to come along and pop them.

Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd as putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken. Why would they try to cure her with pills and powders?

True love is finding your soulmate in your best friend.

Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy, jealousy get the best of me.

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I’m fading away, you know I used to be on fire.

Between whom there is hearty truth, there is love.

We may tell ourselves that love is not really available. But the deeper truth is that we don’t entirely trust it, and therefore have a hard time fully opening to it or letting it all the way into us. This disconnects us from our own heart, exacerbating our sense of love’s scarcity.