People think they know the mystery of living in your skin. They don't. There's no one who knows except the person who carts it around her own self.

The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough.

I write about what I know; and I write about things that are new to me, and that I didn't know before.

The thing about love is that we come alive in bodies not our own.

Long ago, long ago. The simple things come back to us. They rest for a moment by our ribcages then suddenly reach in and twist our hearts a notch backward.

There are moments we return to, now and always. Family is like water - it has a memory of what it once filled, always trying to get back to the original stream.

There's a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we've left it.

We have to admire the world for not ending on us.

It was a silence that heard itself, awful and beautiful.

Give life long enough and it will solve all your problems, including the one of being alive.

Even if people laughed at the notion of goodness, if they found it sentimental, or nostalgic, it didn't matter -- it was none of those things, he said, and it had to be fought for.

Once I have impounded love and towed it into the confine of words, I have lost it altogether.

The rule is easy to understand.Be simple, honest & smart.

Sometimes the people around you won't understand your journey. They don't need to, it's not for them.

No offense but a seller will say whatever it takes to sell a product but if you sum it up, it comes down to hard work.

I'm happy of being in Real Madrid ... I've fulfilled my dream.

Everything will be all right - you know when? When people, just people, stop thinking of the United Nations as a weird Picasso abstraction and see it as a drawing they made themselves.

When the body is in pain, a distorted area of awareness is crying out to the rest of awareness for help.

Capitalism is not an economic system, but a world-outlook, or rather, a part of a whole world-outlook

If a person sweeps streets for a living, he should sweep them as Michelangelo painted, as Beethoven composed, as Shakespear wrote.

Poetry, therefore, we will call Musical Thought.