When death comes, dreams fade, but the memories you've crafted will keep you alive in others.

A fulfilled life isn't measured by the breaths you take but by the memories you make before your last.

In the end, it’s not the years that matter, but the stories you leave etched in the hearts of others

the way i feel i cant stand it, i dont understand it

my heart cant take this damage

if i new my heart was going to break, i wouldnt of gave you my heart

i let go cause i wasnt strong enough..

i wish i read the last page first

On his body we built this city
Boston labourer and husband, S. Quentin
We didn’t know he was in the pit
Before we’d poured 40 tons of cement in

He left this world in slumber
Our beloved father Phil
To never wake in dark again
… Or maybe he will