Every morning, when we wake up, we have twenty-four brand-new hours to live. What a precious gift!

Because you are alive, everything is possible.

The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.

Silence is essential. We need silence just as much as we need air, just as much as plants need light. If our minds are crowded with words and thoughts, there is no space for us.

Around us, life bursts with miracles, a glass of water, a ray of sunshine, a leaf, a caterpillar, a flower, laughter, raindrops.

To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.

It is not impermanence that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent when they are not.

Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.

Thanks to impermanence, everything is possible.

The quality of our life depends on the quality of the seeds that lie deep in our consciousness.

Breathing in, I calm body and mind. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment I know this is the only moment.

We are this world. Its next generation. If you’re not trying to save us, then what exactly are you trying to save?

Whether or not you can observe a thing depends upon the theory you use. It is the theory which decides what can be observed.

Having a vote once every four years is not the same thing as democracy.

God must have a weird sense of values, and if there's a Judgment Day, as some folks think, He's going to have a lot to answer for.

I do not have time to sit down and regret anything although sometimes I wish I had been able to see more of my parents while they were alive and have done more for them.

What hostile parasite is tunneling through her sphincter? (Zarina)

I'm really clear about my priority in life-it's being a mom.

I'm more prone to anarchy than I am to control - even though I'm a film director.

That is the creative artist - a penalty of the creative artist - wanting to make order out of chaos.