perfectionism is a slow death. if everything were to turn out just like i would want it to, just like i would plan for it to, then i would never experience anything new; my life would be an endless repetition of stale successes. when i make a mistake i experience something unexpected.... when i have listened to my mistakes i have grown.

Don't fight a fact, deal with it.

All my life, I have made it complicated, but it is so simple. I love when I love. And when I love, I am myself.

Perfectionism is slow death.

Love, the magician, knows this little trick whereby two people walk in different directions yet always remain side by side.

Moods should be heard but never danced to.

I'd rather be happy than right.