“Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records.”

‘If only’ is the excuse of the loser; ‘I can’ is the affirmation of the winner.

The winner asks, “May I help?” The loser asks, “Do you expect me to do that?”

Love is more than a noun-it is a verb; it is more than a feeling-it is caring, sharing, helping, sacrificing.

Nothing limits achievement like small thinking; nothing expands possibilities like unleashed imagination.

It is wise to direct your anger towards problems – not people; to focus your energies on answers – not excuses.

Enthusiasm is the match that lights the candle of achievement.

Delays, disappointments and defeats cause quitters to give up in resignation; losers, to give in the frustration; winners, to come through with determination.

Commend while others are criticizing, persist while others are quitting.

To make mistakes is human; to stumble is commonplace; to be able to laugh at yourself is maturity.

The more patient we are, the more understanding we become.

Three enemies of personal peace: regret over yesterday’s mistakes, anxiety over tomorrow’s problems, and ingratitude for today’s blessings.

Today is a most unusual day, because we have never lived it before; we will never live it again; it is the only day we have.

The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.

Raised voices lower esteem. Hot tempers cool friendships. Loose tongues stretch truth. Swelled heads shrink influence. Sharp words dull respect.

If you would be interesting, be interested, if you would be pleased, be pleasing, if you would be loved, be loveable, if you would be helped be helpful.

Opportunities are like sunrises. If you wait too long, you miss them.

He tells me he is broken and love isn’t for him. Someone please go tell him, heart break births the best of lovers.

When once the forms of civility are violated, there remains little hope of return to kindness or decency.

I broke my heart in two So hard I struck. What matter? for I know That out of rock, Out of a desolate source, Love leaps upon its course.

Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo’s laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone.

Tear me apart cut open my flesh, until I bleed out just like the rest of the mess.

Give me unexpected whether it is good or bad, I learn from it all. As you build or break me in the end, I will stand tall.

I’m a drunk poet; and I guess maybe I sipped too much of what I couldn’t buy of her.

Love with your mouth shut, help without breaking your ass or publicizing it: keep cool, but care.