The fun part is finding which thoughts, in that crazy beehive of emotion, are the ones that mass produce the honey.

Depression was my body's way of grieving the loss of my childhood dreams. Writing was my imagination's way of redefining them.

Persist. Even when you’re heavy with emotion, pick yourself up bringing the axe of your actions down, repeatedly chopping at the day until you bring the sun low with success.

No stress. Just keep sticking it to failure until you give birth to success.

When the talent is torrential, the harvest is inevitable.

Old lady failure died giving birth to twin giants named confidence & optimism, but her name lives on as the mother of success.