Regret Is The Most Tiresome Of Companions.

I Believe That In Spite Of The Chains We Bind Ourselves With, There's A Primordial Section Of The Human Psyche That Is Still Nomadic And Still Yearns To Roam Free.

There Are Far Too Many People For Us To Think About Each Of Them During Our Short Stay On Earth—like The Thousands Of Books In A Library We Haven’t Time To Read In An Afternoon. But This Is No Excuse To Cease Browsing. For Every Now And Then, We Find That One Book That Reaches Us Deep Inside And Introduces Us To Ourselves. And, In Someone Else’s Story, We Come To Understand Our Own.

There Are None So Impoverished As Those Who Do Not Acknowledge The Abundance Of Their Lives

As We Walk Our Individual Life Journeys, We Pick Up Resentments And Hurts, Which Attach Themselves To Our Souls Like Burrs Clinging To A Hiker's Socks. These Stowaways May Seem Insignificant At First, But, Over Time, If We Do Not Occasionally Stop And Shake Them Free, The Accumulation Becomes A Burden To Our Souls.

Suffering Ceases To Be Suffering When We Form A Clear Picture Of It.