“What ever fortune brings, don’t be afraid of doing things.”

Drinking your milk and talking at the same time may result in your having to be patted on the back and dried for quite a long time afterwords.

One of the advantages of being disorganized is the joy of discovery.

I do remember, and then when I try to remember, I forget.

Be sure to put the knocker fairly low on your door in case a very small friend drops by.

Chess has this in common with making poetry; that the desire for it comes upon the amateur in gusts.

When late morning rolls around and you’re feeling a bit out of sorts, don’t worry; you’re probably just a little eleven o’clockish.

How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

If you want to make a song more hummy, add a few tiddely poms.

I’m not lost for I know where I am. But however, where I am may be lost.

I used to believe in forever, but forever’s too good to be true.

Life is so much friendlier with two.

It’s so much more friendly with two.

Just because an animal is large, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want kindness.

Washing, this modern behind the ears nonsense.

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

If one is to be called a liar, one may as well make an effort to deserve the name.

She loved nothing more than a man who wasn’t afraid to test them. To test her.

I have always felt sorry for people afraid of feeling, of sentimentality, who are unable to weep with their whole heart. Because those who do not know how to weep do not know how to laugh either.

It’s better not to know so much about what things mean or how they might be interpreted or you’ll be too afraid to let things keep happening.

Don’t be afraid mama, the line between your baby and his is very thin, one might even say it doesn’t exist.

You can’t get it all done yourself. The best leaders are not afraid of picking people who are better than they are and who may one day replace them.

If you are afraid of darkness, you are afraid of your own soul.

I’ve been afraid to look at the woman in the mirror. Everyday she looks less and less like me. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever find my way back home.

I hide behind olive branches. So afraid of others knowing what lay beneath the broken rifle. The reality hitting the pavement like bullets that stem from war.