There can be no joy without gratitude.

Broken vows are like broken mirrors. They leave those who held to them bleeding and staring at fractured images of themselves.

Some so fear the future that they suffocate the present. It's like committing suicide to avoid being murdered.

. . .and every native has a story of winter – stories that usually begin, You call this a storm? And grow in the telling like battle tales shared by graying war veterans. It’s a peculiar character flaw to those of us from cold climates that we feel superior to those who have the sense to live elsewhere.

There's no problem so big that whining won't make it worse.

Sometimes we can only find ourselves by first losing ourselves.

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