In the wind that ruffles through the treesI can find thoughts of you whispering to me

As I think therefore I amAm I more if I think more?

Coming down life's highwayAt ninety mile an hour I want to slideWith bad brakes and bald tiresInto my final parking space

Do your thoughts continue and repeat a cycle Seed, growth, bloom, and seed again

Life doesn't revolve around youIt revolves around those you love

Thankful another tomorrow greetsAs I drink from cup of time And prepare to lock the door behind meand leave it to others

When you build a house You nail down memories Paint and stain the fabric of time

There is nothing to fearFrom your reflection

Life is the night skyAll the dots of stars are happiness

Each day is always breaking out anew Aspirations swirling round what you do

We learn and grow Always building on what we know

I don´t need you to believe in me/I know how to change my destiny/Sit down, about to rewrite our history

To reach a port we must sail, sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it. But we must not drift or lie at anchor.

Isn’t that the greatest tragedy? When someone rejects us, no matter how they abuse our love, we hope against reason that somehow they will come back to us.

Those who know the least obey the best.

If I could remember the names of all these particles, I'd be a botanist.

It is, perhaps, one of the hardest struggles of the Christian life to learn this sentence-- "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name be glory."

If you're not operating on an instinctive level, you're not an artist.... Reason over emotion is bullshit, absolute bullshit... We suffocate ourselves in rules. I find fantasy liberating.

In opera, as with any performing art, to be in great demand and to command high fees you must be good of course, but you must also be famous. The two are different things.

I got accepted at Yale but never went.

Reaper of enemies; strong of grip; One kind with his fathers.