It is our wounds that create in us a desire to reach for miracles. The fulfillment of such miracles depends on whether we let our wounds pull us down or lift us up towards our dreams.

Let go of what you can no longer keep. Protect what's still worth keeping. Believe in love most of all.

There will always be a pain in 'goodbyes'. No matter how much we seem to understand everything, it breaks our hearts to ever see anything beautiful die.

Wasted laughter. Wasted tears. Wasted love. That's how badly you felt. And yet, is love ever truly wasted?

Saying goodbye doesn't mean you need to forget, It doesn't mean you were never loved.It doesn't mean you're weak, It doesn't mean you didn't try hard enough.

We are fragile beings, yet we often act as though we couldn't be hurt, and as though we couldn't hurt other people.

God's breath is like a fresh wind that renews us. Frail and weak as we are, we have hope. We find healing.

To love is to risk, and to risk is to lose sometimes, to get hurt. But let it not deter you from loving again, from being happy.

We hurt so much because we have lost a part of ourselves. If we have loved much, we must have given much also, and when everything's over, we feel as though we have lost everything.

If God didn't want you to be a dreamer, He wouldn't go around handing out dreams! That's a clue!

To witness miracles unfold in your experience, count your blessings and be thankful. Perceived small blessings accumulate to be the most powerful.

The cat is the beutiful devil. And here we can use the word, even without the “a.”- from a Dec. 21 1960, a letter to Sheri Martinelli"On Cats

I was a violent, bipolar, compulsive liar. I was a real American.

Benedict Cumberbatch is very beautiful.

It would be easier to be tough on Russian than make a deal. I don't know if we'll make a deal.

I just sing and write songs and wear what I want. It's quite a good job really. If I wanted to I suppose I could become more of a fashion icon, but singing is my thing.

As a writer I'm merely a journalist who has learned to write better than others.

The most amazing feeling I feel Words can't describe what I'm feeling for real Maybe I paint the sky blue My greatest creation was you.

Why is taste, the crudest of our senses, exempted from the ethical rules that govern our other senses?