How disturbing it is that our illusions are often our most important beliefs.

…To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.

I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word.

You hear, but are you listening? You exist, but are you living? You look, but do you see?

But, you know, that’s also the hard part. Growing without growing apart. Or changing without it scaring the other person.

If you could go anywhere in the world right now would it be to a ‘where’ or to a ‘who?’

There’s a reason we refer to ‘leaps of faith’ - because the decision to consent to any notion of divinity is a mighty jump from the rational over to the unknowable, and I don’t care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn’t. If faith were rational, it wouldn’t be - by definition - faith. Faith is belief in what you cannot see or prove or touch. Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be… a prudent insurance policy.