It's not that "today is the first day of the rest of my life," but that now is all there is of my life.

When we persist in looking for and finding what there is to value within our self, we discover a pure and loving being.

But it's morning. Within my hands is another day. Another day to listen and love and walk and glory. I am here for another day.

Every moment that I am centered in the future I suffer a temporary loss of this life.

When I get to where I can enjoy just lying on the rug picking up lint balls, I will no longer be too ambitious.

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.

When someone disagrees with me, I do not have to immediately start revising what I just said. People don't want me to always agree with them. They can sense this is phony. They can sense I am trying to control them: I am agreeing with them to make them like me. They feel; "I don't want to exist to like you. I DON'T exist to like you."