Dwelling on him would make him a bigger part of my life than I want him to be.

The universe is a trillion, trillion threads moving in seemingly unrelated directions. Yet when you look at them together, they create a remarkable tapestry.

Sometimes our arms are so full with the burdens we carry that it hinders our view of the load those around us are staggering beneath.

What a culture we live in, we are swimming in an ocean of information, and drowning in ignorance.

I have learned that real angels don't have gossamer white robes and Cherubic skin, they have calloused hands and smell of the days' sweat.

Everyone who got to where they are had to begin where they were.

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