Sense how Even the smooth stones ache With stories of their own In the shuddering light of day.

Be content to love, to dazzle in the light, If only for moments… And then be gone, With gladness in your heart, Before the creeping shadows Claim too much your sadness at leaving.

Ours was such a delicious risk. My being abruptly and altogether Ecstatic and be-stilled.

On the canvas of life, Every sweep of the brush matters, Counts for something.

The searing light of morning Asks unwelcome questions, Fragile hopes soon blistered by daylight.

Be brave enough to never yearn For that you cannot hold close In your heart forever. Tread lightly, cherish compassion And live in the moment without fear.

Ultimately not one amongst us Will ever be denied that, The glimmer of a chance to shine.

I am sad, like the hot dust on the streets And the music of fresh fallen leaves Caught in a sliding summer breeze.

Sublime moments refracted, Even if only for seconds, Caught forever in your soul.

Nothing that truly matters Can ever evaporate, Be excised, Burnt out of your soul.

Everyday can be extraordinary And ripe, Like a flower burst, If the will is there.

We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.

As a physician, we heal by sharing our bestowed power of knowledge, love, and compassion.

Recently God asked me the same question in a new way, "And if I don't allow you to heal, if I never remove the pain, will you still trust Me?

When you don't have your work clearly defined, there can never be any finish point.

I love having a boyfriend but need to be secure on my own first.

Our bodies crave exercise, and reward us in so many ways when we do so.

Our freedom is our sacred cow; no one should touch it! We must be very pious in this holy matter.

Why are you helping me? (Fury) I don’t know. Apparently I’m having a moment of extreme stupidity. (Angelia)

In learning the art of storytelling by animation, I have discovered that language has an anatomy.

This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change, For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.