This is how you start to get respect, by offering something that you have.

And you will be scared again. All your life. You must conquer this. Face them and pretend that aren't there

Sarah Lemon: “It just felt like... the end.”Dor: “Ends are for yesterdays, not tomorrows.

Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such teachers, you will always find your way back. Sometimes it is only in your head. Sometimes it is right alongside their beds.

Doubt is how you find God

Those who sat with him saw his eyes go moist when they spoke about something horrible, or crinkle in delight when they told him a really bad joke. He was always ready to openly display the emotion so often missing from my baby boomer generation. We are great at small talk: 'What do you do?' 'Where do you live?' But really listening to someone -- without trying to sell them something, pick them up, recruit them, or get some kind of status in return -- how often do we get this anymore?

Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives

We all have same beginning (BIRTH), and we will have same ending (DEATH). So how different can we be?

Heaven . . . is the same feeling. . . . No fear. No dark. When you know you are loved . . . that’s the light.