Kojouri Quotes

Love without conditions, restrictions, or the expectation of being loved in return.

I cannot imagine how much I must’ve suffered in my previous lives to be fortunate enough to have parents like you in this life.

We seek the fire of the spark that is already within us.

If love weighs you downand casts a shadow on your lifethen it isn’t love.Love is light and makes you light.

Find me. Seduce me. I want to be in love with you.

You have already lost if you are always fearful of losing everything.

Don’t make the mistake of looking down on your partner. You’re only on that pedestal because they put you up there.

May we always be burdened with thinking of the suffering of others, for that is what it means to be human.

Missing you,I missed a part of meI shared with you that’s now gone.Missing you, when really, it was the way you made me feeland the things you made us do.Missing you I shouldn’t be.But I can’t help missing who I was with you.Missing you,I missed and missed so much of the world and wasn’t even missed in return.

You might just find God in a mirror one day.

Close your eyes. Meditate on your love. This is God.

I only wrote prose before I met you. My musings were superfluous and serious as well. But now the words dance with me. I sing with them and we create poetry.

Ask of your eyes to seeonly to seek love.Ask of your mouth to speakonly to utter words of love.Ask of your hands to feelif only to touch the lover.

Forgiveness is a transformative act because it asks you to be a more empathetic and compassionate person, thereby making you better than the person you were when you were first hurt.

I wonderif you ever read my poemsand wish they were writtenfor you.

Don't let a cruel word escape your mouth. There's no greater sin than breaking a heart.

Don’t you ever dare judge, for who among us can say that when the devil himself offered us a deal, we refused?

We all have the ability to make someone's life better with our love.

You do not have to be beautiful.You do not even have to be intelligent.All you have to do is practice kindness,for that is our purpose.

Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It’s time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love.

It’s so easy to lose faith and become lost in all of the politics of the world. That’s why we need the arts. To sublimate our frustration and anger into something beautiful. Freud called sublimation a virtuous defence mechanism because it is in the arts that we can find our humanity.

Love is our most basic human value and also our highest potential.

Do not go to my grave. Mary knows, I am not there. Look for me in between pages and on people’s lips.Do not go to my old school. Do not go to my old house —I am not in any of those places. Look for me in your hearts and greet me there.

Extremities are flawed. Moderation is ideal, save for one occasion.So damn these eyes that weep too much.This mind that thinks too much. But never this heart that loves too much.

He knows all my thoughts. He knows all I’ve ever done and He loves me all the same. What is our purpose, you ask. It is to love like God.

Always ask yourself: "What will happen if I say nothing?

Let my silence grow with noise as pregnant mothers grow with life. Let my silence permeate these walls as sunlight permeates a home. Let the silence rise from unwatered graves and craters left by bombs. Let the silence rise from empty bellies and surge from broken hearts. The silence of the hidden and forgotten. The silence of the abused and tortured. The silence of the persecuted and imprisoned. The silence of the hanged and massacred. Loud as all the sounds can be, let my silence be loud so the hungry may eat my words and the poor may wear my words. Loud as all the sounds can be, let my silence be loud so I may resurrect the dead and give voice to the oppressed. My silence speaks.

O, weary angels, don’t look at me with those eyes.If that is your state then what of our cries?What can I tell you of goodness that you don’t already know?What can I tell you of faith,of hope and lovethat you yourselves bestow?O, angels, don’t pluck another feather,this isn’t the sky, it’s just the weather.Please, angels, try.We are one all together.Look up and listen, I’ll say it once and then put down my pen:We are sorry for our ignoranceand even though we are worldly,it might happen again.We are sorry for your wearinessand even though you aren’t worldly,we are no more than human.

Work. Good, honest work, whether it’s working with your hands to create an artwork, or manual labour, brings forth a sense of divinity at play. The only prerequisite is that whatever the work is, it is done sincerely and in congruence with the soul’s true origin and intent, then, without any effort, one experiences a flow, wherein one feels a part of the plan of the entire universe.

Retrospect: the sweetener of life.

Stop looking forward to things, look inward instead.

All this waiting.Waiting for the rain to stop. Waiting in traffic. Waiting for the bill. Waiting at the airport for an old friend.Waiting to depart. Then, there’s the big waiting: waiting to grow up. Waiting for love. Waiting to show youryour parents that when you have kids you’ll be different. Waiting to retire. Waiting for death. Why do we think waitingis the antithesis of lifewhen it is almostall of it?

What is this lovethat makes me see beauty,and makes every beautiful thing bring you back to me?What is this lovethat makes me declare 'I love you'even though I uttered itonly a moment ago?What is this love that keeps growing even when my chest is soreand it hurts to love you any more?Tell me:How am I to find what this love iswhen it was the one to find you, me, this verse, and this universe?

Eyes and ears are two.Lungs and kidneys, too.I wonder thenwhy we're born with oneheart that skips a beat when hay is here,and beats quickly when you are near.One heart that cracks when you are far, lie to me and leave a scar.I wonder thenwhy we're born with oneheart that gets broken.Was I supposed to find you then?So your heart would make one plus one is twofor me andtwo for you.

I have no use for these other loves.Seal them shut in jarsand place them in the pantry. A reserve of love.Thank them for their love.They are so kind.Perhaps store them in the fridgeFor others to take.They say love is a panacea. I know it is not.Flakes of snow,no two are alike.When I am down on my knees, hopeless and angry,for the world no longer makes sense,I won't look in the pantry or fridge.It is your hand pressing on my shoulderthat makes me whole,makes me forget.What trouble? What world?

Let us remember to always rediscover one anotherbecause we are forever changing.

An act of violence, no matter how small, can never be justified if it can be avoided.

Like a child who saves their favourite food on the plate for last, I try to save all thoughts of you for the end of the day so I can dream with the taste of you on my tongue.

Every book has to wait for the right time to be read and understood.

All I need to dois place my pen against paperand your lovewrites for me.

Break open your heart so that I may enter it.

Writing poems is simply an excuse to remember You.

Because you have been blessed with the gift of life, it is your duty to help others. We are all responsible for one another.

In the very end, all we have left to atone for our faults are words.

If you can love one person, you can love everyone.

For what was it about books that once finished left the reader in a bit of a haze and made them reread the last few sentences in order to continue the ringing in their hearts a while longer, so as not to let the silence illumine the fact that reading, they had gained something — distance, a lesson, a companion, a new world — but now, after the last full stop, they had lost something palpable and felt a little emptier than before.

The closest thing to perfection is imperfection

Why do you feel so powerless? Go spend an hour with ants. Each of those black specks you see is a life. One whole life that you can save, take, or affect in some way. You have the power to make so many lives better. It is within you. Don’t lose sight of that.

The only thing that prevents us from being happy is thinking.

Why is your skin the best feeling in the world?

By loving you, I learn everything because your soul contains the entire universe.

For how can any human be separate from humanity and humanness?

If on any given day you don't cry from rejoicing in the beauty of the world, then you have not lived that day.

A poetess is not as selfishas you assume.After months of agonising over her marriage of words—the bride—and spaces—the groom,she knows that as soonas she has penned the poem,it’s yours to consume.So, without giving it a think,she blows on the inkand the letters fly awaylike dandelions on a windy day,landing on hands and lips, on hearts and hips.But more often than not,you can easily spotthem trodden and forgotten,becoming sodden and rotten.Yet, she will continue to makewhat’s others to takebecause selfishness is not the mark of a poetess.

Come into my world. I will show you the phenomenon that Stendhal experienced. I will help you feel the cascading arpeggios of Wagner's overture. I will dance to Doga’s waltzes with you. A day spent without appreciating the beauty surrounding us is a waste. Let me appreciate you

Sometimes a writer simply finds new ways of saying what has already been said because, ultimately, truth is unoriginal.

As soon as we are born we hide God in ourselves.We then spend our lives looking for Himwhen all along, He has been concealed behind the veil of 'I'.

Listen.Do you see that you can’t hear snowfall?Look.Do you sensethat you can’t see love?Touch.Do you graspthat you can’t catch poems?Try.Smell this glass. Go on taste this cloud.These material senses won’t get you far untilyou feelthe velvet glove caress your soul.

Kiss your scars. Fall in love with them. They ought to serve as life-affirming reminders—a lingering trace of hope. The only reason we have these scars is because we survived and are still here.

Seduce yourself first.