Poetry is the capture of a picture, a song, or a flair, in a deliberate prism of words.
The what-if's and the should-have's will eat your brain.
Home isn’t really a place. It’s the people who makes it what it is. I have a great home.
It's alright to do things the way you want. There is no map to life, no blueprints to survival, you can create your world day by day if you have a clear vision and an unwillingness to give up.
Trace the stars with your fingers in hopes you’ll connect the dots, but don’t get caught in the lines that aren’t really there ‘cause there is life in every breath you take and there is hope with every move you make, and every single mistake you think you’ve made should make you feel alive ‘cause you only have one chance to live in this spec we call life.
. . . I seem to want the things I can't have. Occasionally, when something is finally attainable, the chase appears to be over and the fire burns out.
The only dreams that matter are the ones you have when you're awake.
My preference for clear structures is the result of my desire - perhaps illusory - to keep track of things and maintain my grip on the world.
We feel free when we escape - even if it be but from the frying pan to the fire.
You can't choose the ways in which you'll be tested.
In an unlikely pairing, Hillary Clinton made an appearance this week with Newt Gingrich to push a health care plan. The press is making a big deal out this thing with Newt but, hey, if anyone knows how to appear in public with a man she can't stand, it's Hillary.