Love has a way of showing you to yourself, whether through satisfaction or humiliation. It hovers over you like a magnifying glass you cannot escape, intensifying the slightest feelings of either delight or shame. No other experience makes so obvious the realities of both heaven and hell.

The more mature we are, the more receptive we are.

The choice to be used as an instrument of love, right here, right now, is a choice for personal empowerment.

A person acting from a motivation of contribution and service rises to such a level of moral authority that worldly success is a natural result.

When love isn't in our lives, it's on the way. If you know that a special guest is coming at five o'clock, do you spend the day messing up the home? Of course not. You prepare. And that is what we should do for love.

I am trying to be in that alchemical soup of human transformation. I am trying to process, reconcile, forgive, let go, and grieve, when necessary.

Some men know that a light touch of the tongue, running from a woman's toes to her ears, lingering in the softest way possible in various places in between, given often enough and sincerely enough, would add immeasurably to world peace.