Sometimes I have to pretend I feel brave before I actually do. Sometimes I never make it past the pretending part. But those days are getting fewer and further between.

Sometimes we just have to cut off the dead branches in our life. Sometimes that's the only way we can keep the tree alive. It's hard and it hurts, but it's what's best.

It always amazes me how when we’re sure we’ve lost something for good, it winds up finding us.

Every morning we get a chance to be different. A chance to change. A chance to be better. Your past is your past. Leave it there. Get on with the future part, honey.

Freelance isn't for everyone - you've got to be aggressive and enjoy working alone. But you could make more money than you ever imagined.

Caring for someone is scary, because you both know how it feels to lose someone in the span of a heartbeat.

I can forgive a man’s past faults, his present shortcomings, and his future failures if every minute of every day he loves me like it’s his religion.

If you say you’re going to trust your man, then trust your man. Don’t revoke that privilege when he needs it most.

The few things I’d sacrificed, or put on hold, to be with my husband and baby were worth it.

I try to keep the happy memories. If that's what you call selective memories, I'm good with that.

Wealth can be created. Wit and intelligence can't.

It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.

God will save us.

Habits are the determinant of who will be rich or be poor.

Follow the plan until it goes to shit, and then kill everything that isn’t human.

And to those who would choose the safety of inaction over the danger of taking a stand, I have this to say:You bloody cowards. May you have the world that you deserve.

Every day I feel is a blessing from God. And I consider it a new beginning. Yeah, everything is beautiful.

All art is probably erotic in its ultimate character, but painting more than anything else is a purely nervous erotic activity.

The oil and wine of merry meeting.

Whenever I hear anything described as a heartless assault on our children, I tend to think it’s a good idea.