Emotions are like muscles. Most of them go highly unattended, it's usually the weaker, undefined ones that cause injury to the rest, and there is most certainly memory response in play.

Never mourn the loss of innocence, because it always brings the much greater gain of wisdom.

I am forever grateful for not knowing—What would have been. WHAT WILL BE holds none of those bittersweet pangs and it is lit w joy.

The heart of a person only beats when it's surrounded by blood, by family.

If your blade were as sharp as your tongue, you'd have sliced my through years ago.

Just give me a thousand words and you may make your own pictures.

Unfortunately we treat others as we treat ourselves. We should try being genuinely kind to ourselves and the rest will come naturally, like a Platinum Rule.

My cup was already brimming before I met him —after it runneth over.

Humility and shame have been confused. Humility is knowing that you know nothing for sure and shame is someone having to tell you.

If your blade were as sharp as your tongue, you'd have sliced me through years ago.

My acupuncturist once told me that it doesn't have to hurt to work. She might have meant the needles, but I think she really meant love.

I challenge every one of you who can hear me to rise to the divinity within you. Do we really realize what it means to be a child of God, to have within us something of the divine nature?

The atom bomb was no 'great decision.' It was merely another powerful weapon in the arsenal of righteousness.

Nirvana was huge, but it didn't appeal to everyone.

Willem de Kooning paintings are a language to be learned. When they were first shown, they were ridiculed as being just drips and splatters and splashes. You had to learn how to read them.

What we are is seldom what we want to be, while what we want to be is either denied us or changes with the seasons.

Nobody ever feels like they've arrived. That's just the nature of being a creative type of person. You always feel like you can get better or reach more people.

There's music in the sighing of a reed; There's music in the gushing of a rill; There's music in all things, if men had ears; The earth is but the music of the spheres.

Venice was and is full of lost places where people put up for sale the last worn bits of their souls, hoping no one will buy.

Let your broken heart create an open heart

As you wait for better days, don't forget to enjoy today, in case they've already started.