But man invents nothing God did not create first.

Everything man does today to be efficient, to fill the hour? It does not satisfy. It only makes him hungry to do more. Man wants to own his existence. But no one owns time.

I feel ashamed now that I tried to take my life. It is such a precious thing. I had no one to talk me out of my despair and that was a mistake. You need to keep people close. You need to give them access to your heart.

Are you seeing anyone romantically?" he inquired. "No, I'm not," she replied. "Good. Please keep it that way. Because I intend to ask you to marry me.

I know I cannot undo this. None of us can undo what we’ve done, or relive a life already recorded.

She loved me coming and going, at my worst and at my best. She had a bottomless well of love for me.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.