I've got more ideas for books than I'll ever be able to use in my lifetime. I'm very fortunate like that
What are we after all our dreams, after all our memories?
It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on.
Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face - I know it's an impossibility, but I cannot help myself.
It’s never too late to do the right thing.
In the blink of an eye, something happens by chance - when you least expect it - sets you on a course that you never planned, into a future you never imagined.
It's the possibility that keeps me going, not the guarantee.
Painted faces, sun burnt skin, fixed expressions, smiles worn thin.
Slow are the beginnings of philosophy.
The only way we can ever get through to the truth is by finding out what we are not. We do that by looking, by observation.
It’s right to say that people fall in love. We don’t glide, slip, or stumble into it. Instead we tumble head first from the moment we decide to step off the edge of a cliff with someone and see whether we’ll fly together. Love might be irrational, but we make the choice to risk everything.