My dear, If love didn’t exist I’d be in the record books, trust me. I’d have solved the problems of the world twice over. And if not that, at least I’d have slept tonight. But like Van Gogh facing a blank canvas with brush in hand, sanity is the last thing I want right now. Falsely yours, Andrea...

My dear, You can fly around the world to get away if you want. You can get high and drugged up if you want. You can find someone to get lost in love with, a career to lose sleep over, or a religion to get tied up in, to get away if you want. But you can’t escape for long. You’re going to have to deal with yourself sooner or later. Falsely...

My dear, Let us remember eternally that not everyone has to, or will. And let us forget our pain, if only for a bit, so that we remember to love back anyways, even though the thorns hurt us so. This is a prayer. Falsely yours, Pablo...

My dear, Laughing out of sheer joy is not something one does when they know everything about a situation. The man who laughs is a step behind. … The man who laughs after hearing the news, the terrible news, is either crying while doing so, or finally broken. Falsely yours, Bertolt...

My dear, Let it drain from you your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness…. Let it kill you, and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover. Falsely yours, Henry Charles...

My dear, … Verbally that is. They do it, by simply being. By simply doing their everyday routines of being who they are, a good person to serve and be around. A good customer does not seek recognition. (But deserves it.) Falsely yours, Aaron...

My dear, What does it matter how many lovers you wake up besides if none of them gives you the urge to stay in bed a bit longer. What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the atoms, the bonds of this galaxy, or a glimpse of the secrets of it all? Falsely yours, Jacques Marie Émile...

My dear, You are stardust that’s beaten the odds and combined perfectly. You are both the moon you walk under and the ground you walk on. You are a part of it all, neither big nor small. Falsely yours, Eckhart...

My dear, Never back down. Never let the fear take control of the steering wheel that is your emotional drive, and never let it steer you away from anything. Push the fear aside, take the steering wheel into your own hands, and drive straight on. Trust me you won’t ever regret it. Falsely yours, Ralph Waldo...

My dear, Go. Go. Go. Step over the line and stare into the sun. Step over the line and fill your soul. Step over the line and become a poet, and not by choice. Step over the line and give up all hope of ever being part of normal society again. Step over the line… You will go mad, yes, but if it’s any consolation, you will be my hero; a hero, and one of the few. Falsely yours, Henry...