If you really want to know something, you have to be willing to pay the price.

Who can really distinguish between the sea and what's reflected in it? Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

Each of us possesses a tangible living soul. The system has no such thing. We must not allow the system to exploit us.

And as we live our lives we discover - drawing toward us the thin threads attached to each - what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to bring to mind as many beautiful lost things as I could. Drawing them closer, holding on to them.

No matter how honestly you open up to someone, there are still things you cannot reveal.

Sometimes I find it too hot to run, and sometimes too cold. Or too cloudy. But I still go running. I know that if I didn't go running, I wouldn't go the next day either. It's not in human nature to take unnecessary burdens upon oneself, so one's body soon becomes disaccustomed. It mustn't do that. It's the same with writing. I write every day so that my mind doesn't become disaccustomed.

Why do I act like this, agreeing when I really disagree, letting people force me to do things I don't want to do?