In order to do anything about the suffering of the world we must have the strength to face it without turning away.

In those moments when we realize how much we cannot control, we can learn to let go.

With the practice of meditation we can develop this ability to more fully love ourselves and to more consistently love others.

Our practice rather than being about killing the ego is about simply discovering our true nature.

Effort is the unconstrained willingness to persevere through difficulty.

Vulnerability in the face of constant change is what we share, whatever our present condition.

Our path, our sense of spirituality demands great earnestness, dedication, sincerity & continuity.

Every single moment is expressive of the truth of our lives when we know how to look.

Meditation is a cyclical process that defies analysis, but demands acceptance.

The key to cultivating confidence in ourselves is understanding our right to make the truth our own.

Compassion grows in us when we know how the energy of love is available all around us.

He stood on the ice, his teeth chattering in the cold, a cold that seemed to come not from the lake water or icy wind, but from a direct transmission from outer space.

The temptation of the age is to look good without being good.

None of us can choose the manner of our passing.

I am not a rodeo clown, like, "Everything is awesome!" I really worked hard on myself and things and struggled to get to a good place, to a better place.

Garrison Keillor read several of my poems on 'The Writer's Almanac' and I've heard from listeners nationally and internationally. That's one of the great gifts of email.

If you're not failing, you're not trying hard enough.

I never met a rich man who was happy, but I have only very occasionally met a poor man who did not want to become a rich man.

I don't think human beings are bad. They're weak. And that's what makes 'em bad.

Lord #‎ God , I praise Your Holy Name. Let every beat of my heart be a note of love in the symphony of my life.

Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.