poets are born knowing the language of angels

We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are.

The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been.

Agape love is...profound concern for the well-being of another, without any desire to control that other, to be thanked by that other, or to enjoy the process.

When we believe in the impossible, it becomes possible, and we can do all kinds of extraordinary things.

A book, too, can be a star, a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe.

Like it or not, we either add to the darkness of indifference and out-and-out evil which surrounds us or we light a candle to see by.

Creativity comes from accepting that you're not safe, from being absolutely aware, and from letting go of control. It's a matter of seeing everything - even when you want to shut your eyes.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Because we fail to listen to each other's stories, we are becoming a fragmented human race.

If we are not willing to fail we will never accomplish anything. All creative acts involve the risk of failure.

Isn't it awkward how a lot of the people who tell others to 'stop being cheap, ' are usually the same ones that end up borrowing money from them?

You think those dogs will not be in heaven! I tell you they will be there long before any of us.

Innocence finds not near so much protection as guilt.

I'd go to hell to hear a good band.

Confidence brings joy when we let God be God.

The Left will destroy what is good to try to make what is perfect. That is the motto of the Left

We're social animals; we're meant to be together, but we were never necessarily meant to be together without being together. That was never the plan, I don't think.

Volatility is a symptom that people have no idea of the underlying value.

You don't have to be someone special to achieve something amazing. You've just got to have a dream, believe in it and work hard.

Thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division, to her lute.