For every moment of suffering, Others will arriveThat will instead pierce you with joy.

Be content to love, to dazzle in the light, If only for moments… And then be gone, With gladness in your heart, Before the creeping shadows Claim too much your sadness at leaving.

Ours was such a delicious risk. My being abruptly and altogether Ecstatic and be-stilled.

On the canvas of life, Every sweep of the brush matters, Counts for something.

Sense how Even the smooth stones ache With stories of their own In the shuddering light of day.

The searing light of morning Asks unwelcome questions, Fragile hopes soon blistered by daylight.

Be brave enough to never yearn For that you cannot hold close In your heart forever. Tread lightly, cherish compassion And live in the moment without fear.

Ultimately not one amongst us Will ever be denied that, The glimmer of a chance to shine.

I am sad, like the hot dust on the streets And the music of fresh fallen leaves Caught in a sliding summer breeze.

Sublime moments refracted, Even if only for seconds, Caught forever in your soul.

Nothing that truly matters Can ever evaporate, Be excised, Burnt out of your soul.

Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there."Still in the showers, " said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself.

How am I, a writer, supposed to feel about having lost you to a reader?

He turns not back who is bound to a star.

Every mission constitutes a pledge of duty. Every man is bound to consecrate his every faculty to its fulfilment. He will derive his rule of action from the profound conviction of that duty.

We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh

The first pitch to Tucker Ashford is grounded into left field. No, wait a minute. It's ball one. Low and outside.

I give up on spending time on these courts; I give up on practicing before the tournament I hate. I hate this.

I started writing it, because it was seven years ago. But yes, that is the genesis of why I started writing.

I was very interested in vaudeville. It was the only sort of discipline that was a five-minute act on stage, which is what I really enjoyed and saw myself doing. And I bought books on it.

we travel far and fast and as we pass through we forget where we have been