Praise, my dear one.Let us disappear into praising.Nothing belongs to us.

The highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude.

Go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows.

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final

Perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad.

Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything.

Where something becomes extremely difficult and unbearable, there we also stand always already quite near its transformation.

This is what the things can teach us: to fall, patiently to trust our heaviness. Even a bird has to do that before he can fly.

And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been

But your solitude will be a support and a home for you, even in the midst of very unfamiliar circumstances, and from it you will find all your paths.

If we surrendered to earth's intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees.

I had chosen freedom, with all its insecurities, and nothing in the world would make me turn away from it.

Nothing made you realize how much you’d been ignoring your heart, until someone came along and smacked it awake simply by existing.

The secret to writing a book is starting on page one and not stopping until you write the words "The End".

I'm a morning person, so rising at 4-something on weekends is not a huge challenge for me. I am not, however, much of a morning eater - not at that hour, at least.

I hope my own children never have to fight a war.

I have had a few turning points, the first day I entered a gymnastics school at age 6.

Choose what is best, and habit will make it pleasant and easy.

Just one more thing. I kill Snow.

You have a specific, defined audience-at MTV, they assume the audience to the news is 15 to 30 years old and they do a lot of research about the things they're interested in.

The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?