“But when I first fell in love with the piano, I knew it was me. I was dying to play.”

Be driven, be focused, but enjoy every moment, because it only happens once.

No one will take care of you if you don’t take care of yourself.

Prayer keeps me centered.

Early on in my career, I was more closed off in every way. I thought I was protecting myself; instead, I was robbing myself of all I could learn and experience.

I don’t dream – only if I’m uncomfortable or I’m going through something.

You can’t really compare people. That’s one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned, because comparing yourself to someone else really stops you from being who you are.

If I know everything around the situation, all the facts, I feel like I can handle just about anything.

I find that the love we share fills me up and makes me see and appreciate life in a different way.

It’s karma, baby. And it goes around.

At the end of the day, so many things that we hold so much value with, it just doesn’t even mean anything. I really try to stay focused on being really positive.

You’ve got to love what’s yours.

Hand me the world on a silver platter, and what good would it be?

I know people who’ve gone to jail. It don’t mean you stop loving them! They deservin’ love just as much in there, and maybe they needin’ it more.

How you look is your statement, because it’s a claiming of yourself.

We’re all going to change. Otherwise, it’s boring.

I’m in constant pursuit of growing and evolving.

True blessedness consisteth in a good life and a happy death.

She has learned so much from dying only to be born again.

I think mortality makes you live a fuller existence. When I was a kid I was scared of death, and maybe that’s what made me desperate to get the most out of life.

No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.

You who think of us: they lived only in delusion, Know that we the People of the Book, will never die!

Death is a mighty mediator. There all the flames of rage are extinguished, hatred is appeased, and angelic pity, like a weeping sister, bends with gentle and close embrace over the funeral urn.

Artists die twice. First creatively. Then physically. The second one is the easiest.

Between holding on and letting go october discerns october knows, that life lurks between the clouds of death and death breathes with every rebirth.