Beware of those who clam to have all the answers.

Experience is the byproduct of agony.

It is a fact: Of all the people we ever know in our lifetime, the only thing we have in common with them is a handful of shared experiences.

Humans are easy to read, because what they’re not saying speaks volumes.

The intrinsic and extrinsic heart is always at odds, so which heart is yours? For one will bask in true joy, while the other lives in self-loathing misery.

It doesn't matter how long you're here for, or what accomplishments you have, it matters what you do with that time and the type of person that you are.

You can have all the words in the world, but if not said rightly, those words are simply wasted potential.

Is it not the disparity of wealth that consumes the willing soul. Rather, the golden keys of opportunity clamor softly with fraught anxiety of things which may never come.

Opportunities happen when timing, connects, and personalities converge.

True love propels a person to great feats all without so much as a word.

The fragile nature of youth is at last hardened by the agony of experience.

Death's brother, sleep.

Rosies mother was a highly strung bundle of barely thought-through prejudices, worries and feuds.

The daily lesson of slum life, visualised, reiterated, of low standards, vile living, obscenity, profanity, impurity, is bound tobe dwarfing and debasing to the children who are in the midst of it.

God is only a great imaginative experience.

Innocent and infinite are the pleasures of observation.

Labor unions should study and read the Bible instead of asking for more money. When people get right with God, they are better workers.

School's a weird thing. I'm not sure it works.

I feel like now I have an amazing wife, a super smart child and the opportunity to create in two major fields. Before I had those outlets, my ego was all I had.

One moment your life is a stone in you, and the next moment a star!

Seems to me that there is no better way to experience the depth of loss than after the fact. No more powerful instrument of imbuing value in an object than parting with it.