The depth of the feeling continued to surprise and threaten me, but each time it hit again and I bore it...I would discover that it hadn't washed me away.

Gratitude, not understanding, is the secret to joy and equanimity.

Because this business of becoming conscious, of being a writer, is ultimately about asking yourself, How alive am I willing to be?

This is what separates artists from ordinary people: the belief, deep in our hearts, that if we build our castles well enough, somehow the ocean won't wash them away. I think this is a wonderful kind of person to be.

The world is always going to be dangerous, and people get badly banged up, but how can there be more meaning than helping one another stand up in a wind and stay warm?

These days cry out, as never before, for us to pay attention, so we can move through them and get our joy and pride back.

It's better to be kind than to be right.