Why do we stop believing in ourselves? Why do we let facts and figures and anything but dreams rule our lives?

Whenever I go to Germany I find that my readers have T-shirts with my book covers printed on them. They come to all the events, they have gifts and they come with their families. They are always very open to sharing their personal stories.

One must not speak of such things. One is still scarred from that experience.

I'm never overwhelmed or under it either; just nicely whelmed. I'm OK. Nothing spectacular but sometimes special. I look in the mirror and see this medium average person. A little tired, a little sad, but not falling apart.

Time cant be given. But it can be shared.

That's what life is about: People come and go.

Tonight I'm happy. I will worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. But I'm getting there.