Adventure in life is good; consistency in coffee even better.
[True beauty] seeps into you. It doesn't make you forget yourself, but totally the opposite. It connects you with everything and fills you with awe that you share the same space with something that glorious. Like a sunrise or a clear blue day or the most extraordinary piece of glass. And then suddenly...you have this epiphany that there's more to the world than just you and what you want or even who you are.
You raze the old to raise the new.
To dream is to starve doubt, feed hope.
Come on, don't you ever stop and smell the coffee?
Beauty—real everlasting beauty—lives not on our faces, but in our attitude and our actions. It lives in what we do for ourselves and for others.
When the creative impulse sweeps over you, grab it. You grab it and honor it and use it, because momentum is a rare gift.
Forgiving others is easier when I remember that I'm human and stupid, too.
Getting lost is just another way of saying 'going exploring.
There must be a few times in life when you stand at a precipice of a decision. When you know there will forever be a Before and an After...I knew there would be no turning back if I designated this moment as my own Prime Meridian from which everything else would be measured.
He knew me in all the ways that truly mattered: the shape of my fears, the contours of my dreams.
You would be surprised what two hours of daily exercise and five hundred stomach crunches can do for you.
What would it be like to look in the mirror and actually accept what you see? Not loathe the reflection, or despise it, or be resigned to it? But to like it?
I didn't know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.
Hey, if it's a good philosophy, it works. Death is imminent. Live every day like it's your last.
I hated roses. I hated them for being so trite, so clichéd, a default, all-purpose flower that said I love you, I'm sorry, and get well soon. Give me peonies and tulips, orchids or gardenia. Those were flowers with character.
You can see beauty in everything, except for yourself.
Physical beauty wasn't the same as True Beauty, any more than pretty ugly meant truly ugly or Magnetic North meant True North.
Like world describers before me, those mapmakers in the seventeenth centure, I had laid down my first faintly drawn border. With that one tentative mark, my world expanded by a few freeing degrees.
Jolie laide = "pretty ugly" Draws you to it...bored into heart and mind.
That's exactly why nature always trumps gardens. Gardens are just reality pruned of chaos. What doesn't work you rip out.
Maybe getting around in life was nothing but map-reading. A skill that required practice. A key to unlock where you wanted to go. A legend to show where you were.
Let the glossy spreads have their heart-stopping, head-turning kind of beauty. Give me the heart-filling beauty instead. Jolie laide, that's what I would choose. Flawed, we're truly interesting, truly memorable, and yes, truly beautiful.
What was so miraculous about a relationship that was based more on my gratitude than on mutual self respect?
Inertia is so easy—don't fix what's not broken. Leave well enough alone. So we end up accepting what is broken, mistaking complaining for action, procrastinating for deliberation.
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