I am a believer in angels, though not the picture-book kind with wings and harps. Such angelic accoutrements seem as nonsensical to me as devils sporting horns and carrying pitchforks. To me, angel wings are merely symbolic of their role as divine messengers.

People are looking for inspiration, and my books are sometimes the vehicles of what people are looking for.

Nothing heals the soul like chocolate ... It's God's apology for broccoli.

Often times, the greatest peace comes of surrender.

Life has taught me that to fly, you must first accept the possibility of falling.

There can be no joy without gratitude.

Could it be that to truly love a thing is not to desire it, but to desire happiness for it?