I found a sad little fairy Beneath the shade of a paper tree. I know a sad little fairy Who was blown away by the wind one night.

Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.

hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.

A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

Human beings love, despite their compulsions to limit it and exploit it chaotically. Their love persuades them to make vows, build houses and turn their passion ultimately to duty.

I’ll wait for you, ” he said as his hand dropped to his side, as his eyes began to dim. “I think I could wait for you forever.

Love of Allah gives us spiritual life; hope in His Reward is the greatest incentive to do good; and fear of His Wrath stops us from evil.

Hey, Hank, I notice all the women around your place lately ... good looking stuff; you're doing all right." "Sam," I say, "that's not true; I am one of God's most lonely men.

People who want alternative information have to try so hard to find it.

It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back

At first I assumed hate was the opposite of love. But it isn't. The opposite of love is indifference.

I continue to be a pastor who speaks to the people of God about the things of God.

I grew up in a very literate, very independent household where people spoke their ideas and were very supportive of helping each other find their own way

When you are completely satisfied with what you have made, you're pretty much done as a director. So when that happens, that'll sort of be the end.