And I find myself asking again and again.... What was it about such a beautiful man, who was able to leave such ugly scars?

Promise me this. When you find yourself in need of inspiration, bypass the roses that will clamor aimlessly for attention. And focus on the souls who have actually 'lived' among the thorns.

If you only knew how many sentences I have withheld in hopes that I will be allowed to speak them into your heart one day.

How is it that hearts hold on to memories with the strength of hope and possibilities.

I am often asked what made me the way I am. And my answer is always this: I've always been me. It just took awhile to find me under all the rubble.

How to raise sons who respect women:Never give them the opportunity to see you disrespect yourself.

If everyone only gave a fraction of the compassion their hearts are capable of giving... how much suffering could we alleviate in this world?

I used to worry about tomorrow, but that was before I survived yesterday. Now it's one breath at a time.

Show me a little bit of your soul under all those pretty words you spill, and I promise you I will drink every last drop.

Every word on every page, represents a love that captured this heart... fully, and never set it free.

Our spirits are connected honey. Wrapped in firsts of gnarled heartache. But I promise not to let go if you don't.

May they run free forever and grow back their limbs!

My heart felt withered, a neglected fruit that would never again sweeten, now that my love was dead.

I've pretty much always had the same haircut my entire life.

Life is what matters, life alone - the continuous, eternal process of discovering life - and not the discovery itself.

I gave him a kick and he stepped back onto the third rail. Exploding, flaming eraser! This is why moms tell you to stay away from the third rail, but it sure came in handy this time.

There's no disgrace in failing, lad, Though friends and foes deride; In fact, a failure's not so bad As never having tried.

Once you hit 40, you can't do it anymore. Who's got this energy to go on three hours of sleep? You just can't do it.

Let no one think that flexibility and a predisposition to compromise is a sign of weakness or a sell-out.

Why should we expect modernist taste to be any smarter than premodernist or postmodernist?

Of all the things that it is possible to donate, to donate your own body is infinitely more worthwhile.