Saru Singhal

It rained today. You sat with me. We listened to the pit-patter, felt the cold breeze and got drenched in countless emotions. We didn't say a word to each other. Today, 'words' were mute spectators of our growing love.

Out of the millions who write, only very few manage to create an impact.

Poetry is no rocket science, a good poet writes from his heart!

There is no good or bad author; there is only one kind of an author, that who connects with the readers.

You have to invest yourself as a reader to be a good writer.

When she wished for love, she wanted a perfect concoction of - respect, care and understanding. You dusted kisses, and hoped she would find all those in the debris.Love, my dear, is more mental than physical.

Your behavior is the testimony of your character.

You are truly classy if you manage to speak politely in spite of anger boiling inside you.

Character is standing tall and guiding others.

There are many wounded hearts here. Many! Some admit. Others - the stubborn ones, scribble poetry instead.

A boy would sit with you all night, and count the stars. However, a real man would toil under the sun and build you a little universe. The difference - one builds a fantasy, other fulfills it. And, lucky are those who get both these qualities in one person. They get to experience the magic of love.

Silence is the best reply to those who provoke you. Smile is like icing on the cake.

Feelings are murky, contrived and confusing. And the worst thing about them is no matter how hard you try, you can never sort them. They tangle more and more with thinking.

Our anger is a product of our insecurities.

Anger - a beast within us that needs taming.

A bitter experience makes us a better person.