David Alan Royster

Women should serve men. Men should serve women. Any house of peace is full of servants.

And somewhere in my time with you, the crickets emerged as birds and the blackened hills found their hue. My eyes fell on you; I didn’t watch the sun move, but I felt the world turn all night.

Provided that he only broke you into pieces, you still have it all, like a pizza in slices, every. bite, delicious. You may not feel whole, but you are no less because of a feeling.

My love rumbles like the sternum of a lion. Be mindful of the beast you stir up.

I don’t understand how in my parents’ age, it was ’til death do us part, and in mine it’s ’til cheating do us part, ’til lying do us part, ’til chemistry do us part, ’til disagreements do us part, ’til boredom do us part, ’til cowardice do us part. I just want what my parents have, that part.

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.

They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill, what never dies. Nor can Spirits ever be divided that love and live in the same Divine Principle; the Root and Record of their Friendship. If Absence be not death, neither is theirs. Death is but Crossing the World, as Friends do the Seas; They live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is Omnipresent. In this Divine Glass, they see Face to Face; and their Converse is Free, as well as Pure. This is the Comfort of Friends, that though they may be said to Die, yet their Friendship and Society are, in the best Sense, ever present, because Immortal.

If you wanna break these walls down, you’re gonna get bruised.

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved.

Sorry that I can’t believe that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me.

If you can’t hurt with me, don’t flirt with me.

What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined to strengthen each other, to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

I live in the realm of romantic possibility.

When you love someone, you love the person as they are, and not as you’d like them to be.

If we are simply energy, neither created or destroyed, and if a body is just a body, celestial or not, why don’t you come over here and we will make collisions out of moments.

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.

There’s nothing more romantic than getting down in the dirt and plowing through the weeds, brambles, thickets, and dry land of life with someone just as willing by your side.

The love we shared is a paper town on a map we drew ourselves, drunk and fucked and needing to be more than we were.

O ’tis love, ’tis love, ’tis love that makes the world go round!

When I told you I wasn’t in love, I lied.

All we do is drive. All we do is think about the feelings that we hide.