Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of the undergrowth.

Mystery causes a mental itch, which the brain tries to soothe with the balm of reasonable talk.

Happiness doesn't require laughter, only well-being and a sense that the world is breaking someone else's heart, not mine.

I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.

Because IQ tests favor memory skills and logic, overlooking artistic creativity, insight, resiliency, emotional reserves, sensory gifts, and life experience, they can't really predict success, let alone satisfaction.

We humans are obsessed with lights...Perhaps it is our way of hurling the constellations back at the sky.

In rare moments of deep play, we can lay aside our sense of self, shed time's continuum, ignore pain, and sit quietly in the absolute present, watching the world's ordinary miracles. No mind or heart hobbles. No analyzing or explaining. No questing for logic. No promises. No goals. No relationships. No worry. One is completely open to whatever drama may unfold.