A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken. Fortunately, something else happens to you and me. Pick up your pieces. Then, help me gather mine.

The weight of the world is a trifle, if we all put our two fingers under it and try to lift together.

A choir is made up of many voices, including yours and mine. If one by one all go silent then all that will be left are the soloists.Don’t let a loud few determine the nature of the sound. It makes for poor harmony and diminishes the song.

Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.