Once, lovers on faraway shores sat by candlelight and dipped ink to parchment, writing words that could not be erased. They took an evening to compose their thoughts, maybe the next evening as well.

All who are born are always dying.

Courage is confused with picking up arms and cowardness is confused with laying them down.

We all yearn for what we have lost. But sometimes, we forget what we have.

Most of us all walk around as if we're sleepwalking. We really don't experience the world fully, because we're half-asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do.

Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks, 'Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person i want to be? Is today the day I die?

There are two stories for every life; the one you live & the one others tell