I wonder how long it takes for these people we elect to forget who they work for?

I had always been a boy in this place, and many of the trees and rocks and streams had been old men when I knew them. Some had died. All had changed. I knew that. I had changed the most.

The world bein’ so small ain’t always a good thing for those of us who ain’t searchin’ for new and different stuff.

One of the worst things I’ve learned about getting older is that there seems to be more change that you don’t like than there was when you were younger and you can’t do nothin’ about it.

Just make sure the day doesn’t pass without sayin’ what’s in your heart. Sometimes you pass up those chances and they’re gone forever.

Our bird of hope was being denied the altitude it sought, just free enough to fly dangerously close to the reality of the treetops.

As an adult I had mastered the art of looking without seeing and listening without hearing and eating without tasting and maybe even existing without living.

Sometimes, you need to spit stuff out in words to get it better arranged in your head. I figure if you never talk about it, it just picks its own spot and lays there and festers.

What a wonderful sadness to miss the one you have loved forever, it seems, and know that she is waiting at home.

Memories with laughter are the best ones to keep.

I assumed that looking back reminded older guys of what they had shot at and missed, the what-ifs, the good memories, the bad, the people left behind, the people who moved on.

Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?

You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all.He'd probably say he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity.

Books ... rarely if ever talk about what children can make of themselves about the powers that from the day or moment of birth are present in every child.

Always say 'yes' to the present moment... Surrender to what is. Say 'yes' to life - and see how life starts suddenly to start working for you rather than against you.

For pain must enter into its glorified life of memory before it can turn into compassion.

The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.

By not coming forward, you make yourself a victim forever.

With God, every day matters, every person counts. And that includes you.

In this world, there is no clarity. There is only love and action.

I grew up watching a lot of American television and so the American sound has been in my psyche somehow for a long time and is quite familiar and so that does make it easier.