The first casualty of hitting rock bottom is vanity.

Rarely do we invest the time to open the book of another's life. When we do, we are usually surprised to find its cover so misleading and its reviews so flawed.

It's been said that every new beginning in some other beginning's end.

I don't think it is as much a human foible as it is a human curse that we cannot understand the beauty of a thing until it is gone.

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?

Everyone has some inner power that awaits discovery.

I've wondered why the famous congregate with each other. Perhaps it's to assure each other that they really are as important as they think they are.