How frustrating it is to be out-argued by someone you know is dead wrong but is more eloquent.
Before I can accept someone's help, I must accept their presence.
Until we can sense a sacred quality in time we will not begin to have a fuller understanding of it.
I'm afraid my glass is no longer half full because I drank most of it.
To insist that I am not forgiven is a kind of inverse arrogance.
How often have I tried just hard enough so that I can then say to myself that I tried with the real purpose of assuaging my guilt about something I did not wish to succeed in the first place?