If you're in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark.

Unclose your mind. You are not a prisoner. You are a bird in flight, searching the skies for dreams.

I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.

No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.

Say it before you run out of time. Say it before it's too late. Say what you're feeling. Waiting is a mistake.

I probably still haven’t completely adapted to the world. I don’t know, I feel like this isn’t the real world. The people, the scene: they just don’t seem real to me.

But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?

The answer is dreams. Dreaming on and on. Entering the world of dreams and never coming out. Living in dreams for the rest of time.

When I first met you, I felt a kind of contradiction in you. You’re seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you’re worth.

When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.

It’s natural that self-discovery is a lifelong, ever-shifting process, and that what you are drawn to will likely change at various points in your life.

I do not wish a foreign army to spill the blood of my people.

Jesus taught that perseverance is the essential element in prayer.

Under every guilty secret there is hidden a brood of guilty wishes, whose unwholesome infecting life is cherished by the darkness.

In the long course of history, having people who understand your thought is much greater security than another submarine.

May I be at peace. May I awaken to the light of my own true nature. May I be healed and may I be the source of healing for others.

This is what it always comes down to, I realized. There are the ones who believe, and the ones who don't, and caught in the space between them are guns.

It is my unmistakable belief that not a blade of grass moves but by the divine will.

Glamour looks eloquent but seldom talks.

No object is so beautiful that, under certain conditions, it will not look ugly.