Who loves you most? Who loves you best? Who thinks of you when others rest?

This was my moment to look for the kind of healing and peace that can only come from solitude.

Absolute certainty is not something I strive for anymore. I've learned the hard way that destiny usually looks upon our most strident convictions with amusement, or perhaps even pity.

The beauty and variety of the natural world are merely the visible legacies of endless war.

My heart was broken so badly last time that it still hurts. Isn't that crazy? To still have a broken heart almost two years after a love story ends?

It's what I call the haute couture, high-end version of fear perfectionism. It's just fear in really good shoes. But it's still fear.

I crossed the street to walk in the sunshine.