Journey becomes difficult when we know the destination but not aware of the right path, may be the supreme power testing your moral and physical stamina.
There are many forms of poverty: economic poverty, physical poverty, emotional poverty, mental poverty, and spiritual poverty. As long as we relate primarily to each other's wealth, health, stability, intelligence, and soul strength, we cannot develo...
The many contradictions in our lives – such as being home while feeling homeless, being busy while feeling bored, being popular while feeling lonely, being believers while feeling many doubts – can frustrate, irritate, and even discourage us. The...
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, I watch her take out her gear. She’s been smoking so much the room stinks of it. Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen her do it so often I’ve resisted the urge. It’s surreal, like I’m watching me from outside ...
Be good and you will be lonesome.
Names are not always what they seem.
There was no opiate like a French pillow.
Speak it till you reach it!
My life is my journey with time.
My journey in life, my footprints in the world.
The destination is not the journey. The destination is the person you choose to enjoy the journey with.
It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end.
Our life is a journey toward happiness.
My journey has been that of a character actor.
The only journey worth taking is the spiritual journey within.
Dove held out a hand to Johnson, and he took it—not because they were fleeing a fire and not because she was holding a million dollars. He took her hand to wrap his fingers around hers. His long, long fingers. Her knees went a little watery. Johnso...
Soon you catch your first glimpse of a vineyard basking in the sun, its broad leaves silently turning sunlight into sugar, ripening vitis vinifera, the European grapes that make the world’s finest wines. For a moment you might imagine you’ve been...
In the midst of the darkness of loss, I found light. Admittedly, in those first weeks, it might have been but a single small spark I sensed deep inside of me, but that spark guided me in the twisted, dark journey of grief. As I stumbled over the root...
Life is a temporary stop, death is the journey home.
Talk helps shape one's thoughts.
To be unable to read was the ultimate measure of wretchedness.
