Love is like breathing. You take it in and let it out.
Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love.
I am not a smart man, particularly, but one day, at long last, I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family's, and my country's past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things. This much, at least, I've figured out. I know this much is true.
But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears.
I cried because I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet.
With destruction comes renovation.
Power, wrongly used, defeats the oppressor as well as the oppressed.
If you want your prayers answered, get up off your knees and do something about them.