“But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.”

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.

Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.

Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.

Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

We would take something old and tired and common – coffee – and weave a sense of romance and community around it. We would rediscover the mystique and charm that had swirled around coffee throughout the centuries.

It is one thing to be eloquent and charming in profane speech, and another when the one speaking as a religious.

There is nothing more enticing, disenchanting, and enslaving than the life at sea.

When women stops blushing, she has lost the most powerful weapon of charm.

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.

Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.

What a charming reconciler and peacemaker money is!

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.