I have learned that real angels don't have gossamer white robes and Cherubic skin, they have calloused hands and smell of the days' sweat.

But more than brave, you have love. And love is brave.

There are far too many people for us to think about each of them during our short stay on earth—like the thousands of books in a library we haven’t time to read in an afternoon. But this is no excuse to cease browsing. For every now and then, we find that one book that reaches us deep inside and introduces us to ourselves. And, in someone else’s story, we come to understand our own.

I've never understood why people said 'in your own words.' Who else's words would I use?

When a man loses his vision of the future he dies.

What a culture we live in, we are swimming in an ocean of information, and drowning in ignorance.

The only way to remove pain from death is to remove love from life.