How strange is it that our beloved finds its way to us in everything? The orange moon, a freckle, the smell of coffee—are all bridges to the one we desire. How does our beloved find us in this way? Or are we the ones instead who find our beloved in everything? Our intense want of them necessitates the nearness of them. And so we seek beauty only to be flooded with the beauty of our beloved. And we write ellipses on the page only to be thrice reminded of the freckle below their lips...

You do not have to be beautiful.You do not even have to be intelligent.All you have to do is practice kindness,for that is our purpose.

How is it that there was never youuntil there wasand then all was you?

Kiss your scars. Fall in love with them. They ought to serve as life-affirming reminders—a lingering trace of hope. The only reason we have these scars is because we survived and are still here.

Whenever you are angry, take a beautiful object in your house and smash it to pieces. The pity you feel for what you have done is silly compared to what you are doing to your mind: taking a sacred moment to be alive and desecrating it by being angry.

Your attention is so sacred that if you truly look for beauty and grace, you will find it in everything.

Everywhere I go, your beauty spills into my day. The trees were never this verdant. The birdsong never this sweet.

And there's you. You're just beautiful. Effortlessly beautiful, like nature. You have the trinity of beauty: a beautiful heart, a beautiful mind, and a beautiful soul.

I think whenever there’s potential for beauty, beauty can be found. And everything has potential for beauty.