LIFE.What it was . What it will be? It’s, How I see it . How I will see.Starts from you, and ends in me.And whispers...Who I am . Who I will be.

Look yourself in the eyes in a mirror each day. You can ignore the small voice still inside you, but your reflection will always have something to say.

Tis the witching hour of night,Orbed is the moon and bright,And the stars they glisten, glisten,Seeming with bright eyes to listenFor what they listen?

When there is no purpose of thought or activities to keep us firmly planted in routines, we connect to our personal spirit. Then the adventure begins ~

Three of the ten principles governing the City of Joy are (a) tell the truth, (b) stop waiting to be rescued, and (c) give away what you want the most.

Would he ever come back? He wondered. The water filled his ears with its own rush, and he was comforted by the realization that, in fact, he never left.

Bliss is inherent in the Self as fragrance is inherent in a flower. As the flower of the Self-love blossoms, bliss comes spontaneously as the fragrance.

Being impeccable is not going against yourself. When you are impeccable, you take responsibility for your actions but you do not judge or blame yourself.

...some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not.

It’s hard to see yourself changing until you’re so far from the person you used to be that it’s hard to remember ever being them at all.

To persevere is one thing, but to push on ignoring your intuition is something quite different. Self-awareness is the practice of learning the difference.

The gift of willingness is the only thing that stands between the quiet desperation of a disingenuous life and the actualization of unexpressed potential.

When we choose to operate on the frequency of compassion and kindness, we create, and reinforce our own realities, as filled with compassion and kindness.

The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.

When the artist finds himself he is lost. The fact that he has succeeded in never finding himself is regarded by Max Ernst as his only lasting achievement.