My Grandfather, A Devout Christian, Had The

I Think The Secret To A Hoppy Life Is A Selective Memory. Remember What You Are Most Grateful For And Quickly Forget What Your Not.

The More Someone Assures You That Everything Is Okay, The More You Can Be Assured That It's Not.

Dance. Dance For The Joy And Breath Of Childhood. Dance For All Children, Including That Child Who Is Still Somewhere Entombed Beneath The Responsibility And Skepticism Of Adulthood. Embrace The Moment Before It Escapes From Our Grasp. For The Only Promise Of Childhood, Of Any Childhood, Is That It Will Someday End. And In The End, We Must Ask Ourselves What We Have Given Our Children To Take Its Place. And Is It Enough?

We Spend Our Life Building Higher Fences And Stronger Locks, When The Gravest Dangers Are Already Inside

It Is Often During The Worst Of Times That We See The Best Of Humanity–awakening Within The Most Ordinary Of Us That Which Is Most Sublime. I Do Not Believe That It Is Circumstance That Produces Such Greatness Any More Than It Is The Canvas That Makes The Artist. Adversity Merely Presents The Surface On Which We Render Our Souls’ Most Exacting Likeness. It Is In The Darkest Skies That Stars Are Best Seen.