Trust is like that. You can break it for a good reason. But it still remains broken.

I wish i could tell you that through the tragedy i mined some undiscovered, life-altering absolute that i could pass on to you.I didn't.The cliches apply-people are what count,life is precious,materialism is over rated, and the little things matter,live in the moment-and i can repeat them to you ad nauseam.you might listen, but you won't internalize.Tragedy hammers it hm.Tragedy etches into your soul.You might not be happier.But you will be better.

I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the professor shakes his head and says, 'No, the scariest noise is, you're all alone in your dark house, you know you're all alone, you know that there is no chance anyone else is home or within miles—and then, suddenly, from upstairs, you hear the toilet flush.

The actual writing time is a lot shorter than the thinking time.

There are few times that I feel more at peace, more in tune, more Zen, if you will, than when I force myself to unplug.

Years fly by, but the heart stays in the same place.

I'm not very happy idle. There's always this voice in my head that says, 'I should be writing.