A story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.

Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.

Newt Gingrich and his fellow conservative Republicans talked a good game but, despite the lip service they offered about poverty and race and other social issues, they didn't really mean it.

It doesn't matter what party you come from. The key thing is that you work on behalf of the people rather than on behalf of the party.

The money I saved during baseball was probably all gone. I'm tapped out.

Prayer is the opening of the soul to God so that he can speak to us.

The only good thing that we owe to Plato and Aristotle is that they brought forward many arguments which we can use against the heretics. Yet they and other philosophers are now in hell.

The careful rearer of the ductile human plant can instil his own religion, and surround the soul by such a moral atmosphere, as shall become to its latest day the air it breathes.

Life is brief. Always act out of love, never fear.

We must not fail, individually, for if we fail, we fail twice - for ourselves and for those who could have been helped, if we had done our duty.

A scent that disturbs me and delights me. It smells like ripe pears, vetiver, a bit of violet and something else- something spicy almost biting and exotic.