Ike Moriz Quotes

Fake-flower-flattery, broken glass, ancient rituals - a farce. I close my eyes and gaze at the stars. Fatal scent engraved on the brain, crumpled words spring to life in the rain, shape a face or just a stain. You come, you go and all this time, I strive, I die, I fall in love. And all that is new, is just another you.

Oceans of time passing through space, beings and things – come and slip away. Like tears in a stream drift into the sea, no shape, no soul – faint memories of dreams.

You could thrill me. You could kiss me. You could kill me. You could miss me.

You always have what it takes, otherwise, it wouldn’t have taken you!"

Every day that you’re gone, I think of you. The colours of your portrait never dry.

Prescribed so many pills and each and everyone just kills. Are we now Jekyll or Hyde?

Why, people chasing their tails, day in day out; Stepping on each other’s dreams; Trying to buy something that can’t be bought - until their lights are out.

Oceans of blue embracing the land: A drop at a time, igniting the sand.

Holding on to the same old ground, when all inside is screaming ‘out’!

There’re no more dangerous rhymes in these dangerous times, 'cause danger is all we breed.

You’ve taught me to blend in, wearing your fake cobra skin; It fits so tight, I can’t breathe in, but you make me hang in. Oh, every time and time again, you aim to stop my fire with paraffin. And while I play the mandolin, you’re dancing with Rumpelstiltskin; Oh, I can hold my breath for longer than you think.

Just a flash of a second of the age of the world to live this life we’ve been beckoned for our souls to unfurl. Paint on this canvas with all the colours that we know and then add some more from the magical unknown. Round and round, along the spiral, on this path supreme, spawn the sound of the cycle, called forth by our being. Oh, polish this gemstone from all sides thereof, until it shines oh so brightly in the light of love.

Your flair, your style, your élègance: No matter where we are, it feels like France.

Sisyphus cracked the rock and built himself a big, big castle. Now he runs up and down the stairs, longing to be blessed with pain again

I’m going down in the 7th round of this fight that I thought was just a joke.