The body is a clothing that suits us for life. (Le corps est un habit - Qui nous va à vie.)

The water shines only by the sun. And it is you who are my sun.

Rain on your body burned my heart. (Pluie sur ton corps - Brûla mon coeur.)

For him, she bends over backwards. It is origami of the heart. (Pour lui, elle se plie en quatre. - C'est l'origami du cœur)

The king who has the broad bean does not have one whole wafer. (Le roi qui a la fève - N'a la galette entière.)

Love is tears of joy, this is the baptism of fingers. (L'amour, c'est larme de joie, - C'est le baptême des doigts)

We have a thousand possible, but only one is the target. (Nous avons mille possibles, - Mais un seul est la cible)

The regrets are like yesterday: they announce only the future. (Les regrets sont comme hier: - Ils n'annoncent que le futur)

The memory of the dead is indeed a good remorse. (Le souvenir des morts - Est bien un bon remords)

Even Jesus, three days, died. Who is strong doesn't make the strong. (Même Jésus, trois jours, est mort. Qui est fort ne fait le fort)

Mystery of love is like digging water: everything closes. (Mystère de l'amour est comme - Creuser l'eau : tout se referme)

The one thing that kept our family together was the music. The only thing that our family would share emotionally was to have our dad cry over something the kids did with music.

It's not an easy choice, but that's OK. Easy doesn't equal good. Difficulty doesn't equal bad. It's just life, is all.

I keep telling myself I don't practice enough to be a perfectionist. And I don't practice enough to get mad. So my temper has subdued and my attitude is subdued.

Music never dies. Do we really need another Madonna tour? Does she have to compete with women performers 25 years her junior?

The proper response toward what we occasionally imagine to be democracy, methinks, is to retain one's self-respect by not participating in it.

I have always been business minded, always been sorta an entrepreneurial guy; I played a character on Felicity that was modeled after me, actually.

A good writer is an expert on nothing except himself. And on that subject, if he is wise, he holds his tongue.

Do I believe that God can change bitter circumstances into sweet blessing? Am I willing to let Him?

I don't need to manufacture trauma in my life to be creative. I have a big enough reservoir of sadness or emotional trauma to last me.

Just because I can't change everything, doesn't mean I shouldn't try to change anything at all.