The masses do not see the Sirens. They do not hear songs in the air. Blind, deaf, stooping, they pull at their oars in the hold of the earth. But the more select, the captains, harken to a Siren within them...and royally squander their lives with her.

We have our brush and colors - paint Paradise and in we go.

The sole way to save oneself is to save others. Or to struggle to save others -even that is sufficient.

In order to succeed, we must first believe that we can.

God sends rain, but He also sends hoods; and when the rain grows heavier, He sends a cave.

The heart unites whatever the mind separates, pushes on beyond the arena of necessity and transmutes the struggle into love.

Everything in this world has a hidden meaning.