Happiness does not come from consumption of things.

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.

Kiss me until I forget how terrified I am of everything wrong with my life.

When he kissed me, it was like he was reaching for my soul.

He who goes unenvied shall not be admired.

The commander of the forces of a large State may be carried off, but the will of even a common man cannot be taken from him.

My grandfather gave me my first guitar, an old acoustic with palm trees and dancing girls painted on it

When the sleeping snake is gone, then you can rest at ease.

There was never any question about his (Enos Slaughter) courage. He proved it by getting married four times.

And as I was sort of doodling, I was thinking, surprise and fear - probably fairly similar so let's just lose surprise. And that left us with five.

Once God and grace move us to the second half of life, religion becomes a mystical matter, rather than a moral matter.

To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.