Life never tires of testing the proposition that life must go on.

Sometimes the best way to forgive is to let the other person forget.

We are Godseekers all, though some be churchgoing believers and others pilgrims to an unknown shrine.

A nod, a bow, and a tip of the lid to the person who coulda and shoulda and did.

There is in every artist's studio a scrap heap of discarded works in which the artist's discipline prevailed against his imagination.

Why be saddled with this thing called life expectancy? Of what relevance to an individual is such a statistic? Am I to concern myself with an allotment of days I never had and was never promised? Must I check off each day of my life as if I am subtracting from this imaginary hoard? No, on the contrary, I will add each day of my life to my treasure of days lived. And with each day, my treasure will grow, not diminish.

It is hard to resist a flatterer who gets it right.