We want greatness, but we prefer it tamed and on a leash short enough for us to control it, yet long enough to allow it to retain some remote yet diminished flavor of greatness.

When my vision is numbed by apathy and narrowed by mediocrity, I can stand in the presence of great things and fail to see even the smallest of things.

Things that are truly great need nothing from me, and to somehow think that they do speaks to my utter lack of greatness.

I think that the greatest people of all are not those who have achieved great things, but those who appreciate great things whether they achieve them or not.

The greatest people are ‘great’ because they’re willing to admit their greatest faults.

If God created great things with a point of vulnerability, it would lie in the reality that great things die in the hands of great ignorance.

Too often, we thoughtlessly relegate things to the ever-dimming periphery of our lives, eventually jostling them off the edges to some ill-defined oblivion because we assume that we are done with them. The problem is, they may not be done with us.

I have forged many things that I believe to be things of great beauty. Yet if God is not a part of them, they are entirely counterfeit and I have been robbed blind by the work of my own hands.

Greatness demands that I understand that I am not nearly as big as I thought myself to be, but that I am capable of becoming far bigger than I ever imagined myself to be.