From our first babblings to our last word, we make but one statement, and that is our life.

When I think of God I feel like an ant crawling into a computer.

There are people who come into our lives as welcome as a cool breeze in summer- and last about as long.

Dance. Dance for the joy and breath of childhood. Dance for all children, including that child who is still somewhere entombed beneath the responsibility and skepticism of adulthood. Embrace the moment before it escapes from our grasp. For the only promise of childhood, of any childhood, is that it will someday end. And in the end, we must ask ourselves what we have given our children to take its place. And is it enough?

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

We are chained to that which we do not forgive

The sweetness of reunion is the joy of heaven.