If America taught me anything, it's that quitting is right up there with pissing in the Girl Scouts' lemonade jar.

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.

It doesn't matter where you've been, only where you are going.

If we are to feel the positive feelings of love, happiness, trust, and gratitude, we periodically also have to feel anger, sadness, fear, and sorrow.

True faith in God through Jesus Christ, must be manifested with fearless spirit and obedience to God's law. Joshua 1:1-11

I once heard worship defined as celebrating the availability of God.

Not to remember 9/11, is to forget what brought it about.

I can still sing most Eagles songs, even though I never bought a record and never liked the band.

I think students ought to have the right to protest, but not to the point of anarchy.

Scriptures were just words on a page and my prayers failed to lift.

To smoke or not to smoke: I can make of either a life-work.

For men use, if they have an evil turn, to write it in marble; and whoso doth us a good turn we write it in dust.