Who I believed myself to be was a hopeless case. I would wake up in the mornings and notice I was still alive and breathing and hate God, hate myself, hate life, and contemplate ways of killing myself.

Reality is always the story of a past, and what I love about the past is—it's over.

When we're not defending and justifying, and we're being very still, our answers can and do shock us.

The person who finds peace inside and lives it, is the one who teaches what true peace is.

Until the mind is open, the heart stays closed. The open mind is the key to the open heart.

When you srgue with reality, you lose, but only 100% of the time.

Who would you be without your story?