I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.
Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.
Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.
Life, like a child, laughs, shaking its rattle of death as it runs.
That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.
Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it.
From the solemn gloom of the temple children run out to sit in the dust, God watches them play and forgets the priest.
I have become my own version of an optimist. If I can't make it through one door, I'll go through another door - or I'll make a door. Something terrific will come no matter how dark the present.
In Art, man reveals himself and not his objects.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words which are clear; the great truth has great silence.
Asks the Possible of the Impossible, "Where is your dwelling-place?" "In the dreams of the Impotent," comes the answer.
When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.
Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol.
Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.
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