I would like to add I'm innocent. I am not guilty.
I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.
When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure.
Some things, when they change, never do return to the way they once were. Butterflies for instance, and women who've been in love with the wrong man too often.
I wrote to find beauty and purpose, to know that love is possible and lasting and real. . . . Once I got to my desk, once I started writing, I still believed anything was possible.
There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.
Real love, after all, was worth the price you paid, however briefly it might last.
I have a habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am now leading a posthumous existence.
If the Christians of America could be persuaded to vote God and a clean ticket, it would bring about a moral revolution that would be incalculably beneficent. It would save the country.
I like to read about Moses best, in th' Old Testament. He carried a hard business well through, and died when other folks were going to reap the fruits; a man must have courage to look after his life so, and think what'll come f it after he's dead and gone.
While meditating we are simply seeing what the mind has been doing all along.