It's as if Mom was expressing herself in a language other than English; a language that Grandma wouldn't be able to interpret simply by looking at the music notes.

There's no better way to get to know a person than through their art.

What if we could paint the moon a different color? Like—purple?

That’s what gives me hope, knowing that the moon that glowed in the sky on that magical night is the same one above us now.

Without the dark, we’d never see the stars. There also would be no use for the moon if there was never a night.

I wonder if only artists can feel peace like this—such a gentle, inconspicuous peace that an ordinary person might not even notice.

Hiding a wound can cause a serious infection without healing. It has to be exposed and washed. Sure, the cleansing may cause pain at first—but, in the end, it brings healing, as well as relief.

Scars can actually be proof of a healing wound.

It’s easy to be a Christian when you’re living the perfect life. It’s easy to live a perfect life when God seems to be showering you with blessings.

Who do those boys think they are, treating us as if we are their property, taking away our innocence?