“A natural law; ‘forgive them or become them.’ slowly, unnoticeably, surely.”

You were fully clothed in lies, I was naked in truth. Still, when morning came It was I who survived the cold.

There is no such thing as ‘little’ acts of kindness. Every kind act, is grand powerful. Meant to take up space.

I have seen men, choose violence time after time. And in turn, I have seen violence choose them.

‘Why are we here?’ I inquired of my body, spirit, and soul. ‘Here to do whatever feels good.’ Said the first. ‘Here to do what feels good.’ Said the second. ‘Here to choose.’ Said the third. ‘Between both.’

“No” is such a controversial word. Clear, resounding when uttered by men. By women, Low, muffled. Sounds like “yes.”

To know more, I must first admit that I know nothing. Only on a blank page, can words be written.

Ran out of time, before we even began. How long will the road not taken be starved of footprints?

I no longer ask humans, for a definition of love. For, they tend to force on her, the traits of those who have either treated them well or not at all.

Both strong and weak may survive; if neither takes too seriously, the titles of ‘strong’ and ‘weak’.

A lot of my mistakes, are birthed by curiosity. Like a child, drawn to fire; I came for the light and found pain instead.

Ears quick to listen. Lips, slow to speak. I take, so that I may give.

I used to envy the sun, for having seen it all. I was wrong. Left with nothing to see, how bored she must be.

Doubts are powerful. They, not only demand we look again, they tell us what to see.

Patience is not the ability to wait. It is, how we wait; an attitude so unruffled, that none can tell if we’re waiting or not.

Doing good and being good; are two different things. The first is a shirt we put on, take off. The latter is our skin.

Spiritual or religious. Which will you be? Society, asks of me. Inscribe my name on the list. I said, Of which has more compassion in it.

I know I could never forgive myself if I elected to live without humane purpose, without trying to help the poor and unfortunate, without recognizing that perhaps the purest joy in life comes with trying to help others.

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

I know I could never forgive myself if I elected to live without humane purpose, without trying to help the poor and unfortunate, without recognizing that perhaps the purest joy in life comes with trying to help others.

The glory of Christianity is to conquer by forgiveness.

The press is ferocious. It forgives nothing, it only hunts for mistakes. In my position anyone sane would have left a long time ago.

Forgiveness is setting the prisoner free, only to find out that the prisoner was me.

You never so touch the ocean of God’s love as when you forgive and love your enemies.

I’m much closer to the people at the bottom than the people at the top, and the latter won’t forgive me for it.