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

God may want you to be the answer to your own prayer.

People talk about love as though it were something you could give, like an armful of flowers. And a lot of people give love like that -- just dump it down on top of you, a useless strong-scented burden.

Beauty cannot disguise nor music melt A pain undiagnosable but felt.

It is a difficult lesson to learn today-to leave one's friends and family and deliberately practice the art of solitude for an hour or a day or a week. And yet, once it is done, I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.

Men kick friendship around like a football, but it doesn't seem to crack. Women treat it like glass and it goes to pieces.

Purposeful giving is not as apt to deplete one's resources; it belongs to that natural order of giving that seems to renew itself even in the act of depletion.