The devil told my mind that my thoughts held no power; and this seemed true until my thoughts I began to speak.

It is most often not our strengths, our courage or our successes that bring two human hearts together, but it is often our shared vulnerability, our fears and our common failures that make us one.

I always thought death was cruel, a silent destroyer of breath, of hope, of life. Now I understand it is physical death, the perception of it, the fear of it, which often saves us; for death marks the end of our flesh causing us to question the future of what we are.

A secret love is beautiful, sweet and sacred when it's just a light infatuation; but when that person reaches over and touches you in the heart, making it alive in a way it has never known, that secret love becomes frightening, because you can never make them love you, you would never want to make them love you...but all the same, no matter which way you view it, they don't love you...and your heart doesn't know how to beat the same.

I dropped my juggling balls and my face grew embarrassed. It wasn't until then that I looked around the circus of life and noted all were too consumed on their own juggling act to see. This is when I learned to have fun, and kick the balls instead.

It amazes me, how many words there are spoken, how many thoughts...yet each speaks freshly to me each time as if they were never once spoken before.

I've been looking for answers all of my life. Yes I realize now these are not what I needed. No, in fact, all I need is what I've decided on, in my heart to believe. In all the crossing confusion and haste of numerous opinion and stance, my own opinion has become my own boat from where I observe the raging opinions of the sea, relaxed, drinking my lemonade and feeling very amused by it all.