It’s not love that you hate, it’s the loved one who betrayed.

Fiction is but truth... tweaked or disguised.

If it has a reason, it’s definitely not love.

A book is not just a collection of words, it is a perception portrayed on blank sheets. You know, getting you the feelings of blowing winds and rains and sun and flowers around, the smiles, the tears, the notional links with the characters and make them all alive, while you read. And that’s sure as hell a gruelling task !

If hunger could please God, millions hadn’t starved to death.

My heart always knew, you’re the dew, my dry soul would never adieu... but I still don’t know why I let you go and waited all my life just for you.

Falling in love is like holding a candle. Initially it lightens up the world around you. Then it starts melting and hurt you. Finally it goes off and everything is darker than ever and all you are left with is the... BURN!

If it has a reason, it's definitely not love.

Every riddle has one perfect answer. For life it is love.

Falling in love is like holding a candle. Initially it lightens up the world around you. Then it starts melting and hurt you. Finally it goes off and everything is darker than ever and all you are left with is the.. BURN!