We are doing the most important possible work in the world when we open the door and reveal our creative nature. It is the work of the Universe itself.

Blessed are the weird people: poets, misfits, writersmystics, painters, troubadoursfor they teach us to see the world through different eyes.

Every pain, addiction, anguish, longing, depression, anger or fearis an orphaned part of usseeking joy, some disowned shadow wanting to returnto the lightand homeof ourselves.

Living is art.Breathing and heart beating is music.Seeing is painting the world with our eyes.Touching is sculpting the shape of everything.Life is the most intense art of all.

Writer's block is just another name for fear.

With poetry and writing, the question isn’t “do you know the right words?”.The real question is, “can you make words from the unwordable, chisel blocks of raw silence into shapes and touch our souls?

We wait, starving for moments of high magic to inspire us, but life is full of common enchantment waiting for our alchemists eyes to notice.

Dare to dream again.For dreaming is the language of your soul, And nothing your soul truly desires could ever be wrong or impossible.

Your enormous soul had so many choices of who it could show up as. It chose you.

If it's ka it'll come like a wind, and your plans will stand before it no more than a barn before a cyclone

Ah! Let the soul dance with joyLet us sit in dark deep silencenow feel, see and enjoy!

Sometimes I think we'd all be better off if the people who mean well would just creep away and die.

Actually, if you take the average American, and studies have shown that, he is really concerned only with private affairs; that is to say, with his health, his money and family affairs.

The desire to seem clever often keeps us from being so.

Whoso shrinks from ideas ends by having nothing but sensations.

You sell on emotion, but you justify a purchase with logic.

I don't like being forced to reduce my thoughts to sound bites.

Color has such a friendly appearance, that I always see it with fresh delight, now with all its tints, like the spirits of the light, it nestles in and penetrates all physical forms.

I prefer nothing, unless it is true.