A fear Paul had transformed all these years, like a gifted alchemist, into anger and rebellion.

Photography is all about secrets... The secrets we all have and will never tell.

You can't spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won't work. You'll just end up missing the life you have.

She didn't love him and he didn't love her; she was like an addiction, and what they were doing had a darkness to it, a weight.

Once, this whole world had been hidden beneath a shallow sea.

...and the distance between them, millimeters only, the space of a breath, opened up and deepened, became a cavern at whose edge he stood.

It wasn't right. He knew that, but it was like falling: once you started you couldn't stop until something stopped you.

Lately, the world felt fragile, like a blown egg, as if it might shatter beneath a careless touch.

You can't stop time. You can't capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.

A moment might be a thousand different things.

Music is like you touch the pulse of the world. Music is always happening, and sometimes you get to touch it for a while, and when you do you know that everything's connetcted to everything else.

To be happy you must have taken the measure of your powers, tasted the fruits of your passion, and learned your place in the world.

When you write from the heart, it is always beautiful.

There is never a reason good enough to be out of alignment with peace.

Our goal as parents should be to endeavor to pass down our faith to the next generation in such a way that they will be able to pass down their faith to the following generation in our absence.

I don't like all the glory, hand-shaking and general run of things after a tournament.

If you don't wake up at three in the morning and want to do something, you're wasting your time.

I want to be on stage and perform and win Grammys and help out my family in Bulgaria, because they are struggling, and my mom and dad, too.

Perhaps the way with any obsession is to ignore it simply. Not to fight it, since it draws strength from any contact with us, whether hostile or friendly.

O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee To temper man: we had been brutes without you.

High minds, of native pride and force, Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse; Fear, for their scourge, means villains have, Thou art the torturer of the brave!