“How sad it is that you have become something I need to recover from.”

There is still so much light left in us.

What once felt like heartbreak now feels like divine intervention.

Silence and inaction breed injustice.

I wonder if we ever grieve what was at the same time?

And maybe I’ll find you again, on the next big adventure.

After all this time forever still looks like you.

I hope my journey here ends with us.

I want love to be the altar of these earthly days.

You will always be, my favorite maybe.

A galaxy exists inside these bones and its sun shines only for you.

You made my world feel infinitely bigger simply by being In it.

I found myself somewhere between the aching and letting go.

I have never known how to handle endings with grace.

Her laugh feels like homecoming.

I built a kingdom out of heartache and it is glorious.

Somewhere between that first look and now I lost you.

There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision.

A part of my appreciation for the good which moments bring has come from awareness and recognition. But it has also come from a correspnding sadness which arises from their passing.

This was 1990, the year that communism died in Europe and it seemed strange to me that in all the words that were written about the fall of the iron curtain, nobody anywhere lamented that it was the end of a noble experiment.

Don’t make assumptions. Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want.

A Jazz man should be saying what he feels: humor, sadness, joy… all the things that humans have.

They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known. And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own.

Having no children had been a kind of choice up to the moment when, from a choice, it became a sadness.

Comedy, I imagine, is harder to do consistently than tragedy, but I like it spiced in the wine of sadness.