There is no "next" after you are dead and gone from your own world.
He who wants to do good knocks at the gate: he who loves finds the door open.
Mistakes live in the neighbourhood of truth and therefore delude us.
Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave. The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.
This I know... That often when I sang, and drummed, and danced, I found my eternity.
Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.