Books seek us out. They slip themselves into our hands just at the time we are ready for a new self-concept.

For communication to have meaning it must have a life. It must transcend "you and me" and become "us." If I truly communicate, I see in you a life that is not me and partake of it. And you see and partake of me. In a small way we then grow out of our old selves and become something new. To have this kind of sharing I cannot enter into a conversation clutching myself. I must enter into it with loose boundaries. I must give myself to the relationship, and be willing to be what grows out of it.

Love itself is not an act of will, but sometimes I need the force of my volition to break with my habitual responses and pass along the love already here.

My trouble is I analyze life instead of live it.

I'd rather be happy than right.

Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes.

We are all saying the same thing in different words.