“Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.”

Depth of friendship does not depend on length of acquaintance

Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward by outward beauty.

If I can’t make it through one door, I’ll go through another door- or i’ll make a door. Something terrific will come no matter how dark the present.

The highest education is that which does not merely give us information but makes our life in harmony with all existence.

Love is an endless mystery, because there is no reasonable cause that could explain it.

Everything comes to us that belongs to us if we create the capacity to receive it.

I have spent many days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.

Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.

We cross infinity with every step; we meet eternity in every step.

Love’s gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for she was born in another time.

The stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies.

The small wisdom is like water in a glass, clear, transparent, pure. The great wisdom is like the water in the sea: dark, mysterious, impenetrable.

Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom.

Nirvana is not the blowing out of the candle. It is the extinguishing of the flame because day is come.

Come oh come ye tea-thirsty restless ones -the kettle boils, bubbles and sings, musically.

If you grow up in the suburbs, you hear of people dying of old age, car wrecks, cancer. In the city, it’s always people dying of violence or stray bullets.

Only in death will I relinquish my belts.

Boxing is a dying sport, really. Years ago, the world heavyweight champion could be said to have reached the highest pinnacle of sport. Even in this country, boxers were heroes. Think of Henry Cooper and Frank Bruno.

I’d rather be shot by a bullet than to be cut by your words. I’ll die cold on the pavement before I lie in the casket of your assurances.

I am not self-destructive. I am not a person who wants to die.

The age of 40 is not a death sentence.

How is it that the colors don’t seem colorful anymore? How is it that the child in me wants to live yet keeps dying more and more?

This white woman came up to me, and I’m thinking, WOW. When I was a kid, she would have been robbed and raped and left for dead. This is a real strange scenario, and I just wanted to cry. I’m like, “Who am I? Where’s my heritage?