That which is painful sharpens one's love.

The urge is always with me to retouch yesterday's canvas with today's paintbrush and cover the things that fill me with regret.

Heaven is an idea constructed by man to help him cope with the fact that life on earth is both brutally short and, paradoxically, far too long.

I am not a hero in soul and never will be, but I am better than I was before. Or so I tell myself; and for now that is enough.

You'll swoop from incredible highs when you're just glad to be alive, to those lows when you wish you were dead. And just when you start thinking that you've accepted who you are, that changes, too. Because who you are is not permanent

That which is painful sharpens one's love.

Only a man unable to handle the actual world would create another one in which to hide.