It is the image of physical brawn, sheer force, and commanding volume we so often associate with might. But I have found the might of an army exists in the faith of a child and in quiet, earnest prayers as well as in the heart of one who loves.
It is not inability itself, but the feeling of powerlessness that breeds fear. That fear then breeds hatred. And hatred, the spawn of fear and powerlessness, leads us to ruin.
While observing a breeze dance over a patch of dandelions that had gone to seed, I realized how easily delicate things succumbed to the wind. I became suddenly aware that my emotions are affected in the same way by every minor gust of sentiment.
Love accepts you as yourself. It will never ask you to be someone else.
My favorite thing is to get lost in an imaginary world that is so real in my imagination, I know I will replay fond memories of time spent there for years to come.
Some blessings do not look like blessings initially, but later you realize you are in fact better off the way things turned out.
If faith without works is dead, then in the same vein, compassion without action is dead, and concern without voice is also dead.
You can learn big things from small promptings if you listen.
Know what your objective is. Anything that does not contribute to that objective is unnecessary; let those things go.
Far more important than what you do is the reason why you are doing it.
Work for your dreams and then watch as, little by little, obstacles crumble to make way for success.
Life requires a childlike approach to grasp what a miracle it is to just live.
The fact that some clutched at their throats suggested death by asphyxiation or poisoning. But what about the persons standing? They seemed unaffected. Why? Had only a few taken a sip from the vial? Had anyone but the woman sipped from the vial? Was there a trick to being unaffected?
It is easy to find someone willing to make a commitment. The challenge is to find someone dedicated to keeping it.
When an individual changes for the better, the world changes for the better. It happens one person at a time.
He was a volcano that spewed only ashes and destruction, and they despised him for that lying tongue.
How sweetly delirious is the tinkling and trilling of mirth that draws to its sound the friendliest hearts.
The weight of my grief in the depth of sorrows rivals the bliss of our love at the height of past joys.
Rewards live at the far edge of honest sweat, heavy toil, and dogged determination.
I pondered the day away at the changing shapes of passing clouds, lazing in the shade of palm trees.
There are more books than can be read, more friends than can be made, more laughs than can be chortled, and no time to waste.