Mi infancia, cuando la recuerdo, se me aparece como una idea de quietud al borde de una inquietud que sería después toda mi vida.
It won’t be a normal life-I know that. But it will be a life. A life together.
A man’s subconscious self is not the ideal companion. It lurks for the greater part of his life in some dark den of its own, hidden away, and emerges only to taunt and deride and increase the misery of a miserable hour.
Self-correction makes me check the ruler of my life against the yardstick of my inner voice. I acknowledge when I don’t measure up. Self-correction is an ongoing process. If done often enough, I can stop myself from straying off the path.
Plans are fragile things, and life often dashes expectations to the ground.
I’d chosen the regret I could live with best, that’s all. I’d chosen the life I belonged to.
No one should have to go through life without forgiveness. It’s essential
The devil lives in our mistakes, the lord lives in our rights. Who lives in our ignorance, and who wins after all?
It can be difficult to speak truth to power. Circumstances, however, have made doing so increasingly necessary.
We’re hungry for acceptance-from ourselves even more than from others-for love, for fulfillment, for peace. We’re hungry for a life we think we don’t deserve or can’t have, for the person we know we can be if only we’d give ourselves the chance.