People are like books, unknown until they are opened.

Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.

I have Tourettes syndrome.

The most difficult of decisions are often not the ones in which we cannot determine the correct course; rather the ones in which we are certain of the path but fear the journey.

Forgiveness does not require us to close our eyes but rather to truly open them.

So often the pain of our life is no more than a reminder to take our hand off the stove.

There are none so impoverished as those who do not acknowledge the abundance of their lives

such fickle days of love when pain and ecstasy share the same hour

The greatest shackles we bear in thislife are those forged by our own fears

Forgiveness is the key to the heart's shackles.

To choose the path is to choose the destination, but sometimes it seems that the path is under our feet even before we know we're walking.

I think my mission is to be in business so I can create a positive impact that will uplift the others around me. (p. 78)

The love to know is the passion for reading.

When they have opened you up like a ripe fruit they devour your juices and then spit you out like the seed.

In order to be a success, you must think like success. Get up and move! You got to make things happen.

My success is measured by my willingness to keep trying.

If reality impacted directly on our senses and our consciousness, if we could have direct communication between the material world and ourselves, art would be unnecessary.

A garden is a love song, a duet between a human being and Mother Nature.

Collaboration is necessary for making great art. Everybody has a perspective on what they think or feel the material should ultimately look like when it hits the screen.

Understand who you are, so that you can be the same, whether you're talking to a homeless person or the president of the United States. You're the same person.

Humans turn the places they live into great crowded piles of mud and stone, like the nests termites build--but what happens when in all the world there are termite hills left but no bush?