You can’t just write and write and put things in a drawer. They wither without the warm sun of someone else’s appreciation.

One must lose one's life to find it.

Go with the pain, let it take you. Open your palms and your body to the pain. It comes in waves like the tide and you must be open as a vessel lying on the beach, letting it fill you up and then, retreating, leaving you empty and clear.

Why do progress and beauty have to be so opposed?

We are always bargaining with our feelings so that we can live from day to day.

When the heart is flooded with love there is no room in it for fear, for doubt, for hesitation.

Can one make the future a substitute for the present? And what guarantee have we that the future will be any better if we neglect the present?