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

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

Maybe, if we just accepted our deaths, we might finally start to live.

Feelings can be like wild animals-we underrate how fierce they are until we've opened their cage

I find myself seeking out the commonalities of our different religious experiences with hopes of encouraging, through my writings, the most hopeful, loving and redemptive qualities in all of us.

The shackles of belief, when reinforced by fear, are difficult to break free from and rarely done.

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