What Is A Good Person Quotes

A good person always find the goodness in a bad person. ~ Debasish Mridha

I do not believe in the court system, at least I do not think it is especially good at finding the truth. No lawyer does. We have all seen too many mistakes, too many bad results. A jury verdict is just a guess - a well-intentioned guess, generally, but you simply cannot tell fact from fiction by taking a vote. And yet, despite all that, I do believe in the power of the ritual. I believe in the religious symbolism, the black robes, the marble-columned courthouses like Greek temples. When we hold a trial, we are saying a mass. We are praying together to do what is right and to be protected from danger, and that is worth doing whether or not our prayers are actually heard. ~ William Landay

I think one of the things the writers' festival does that is very good is that it brings writers from around the world and around the country and locally and puts them all in the one spot together, and that's what a lot of the world's great writers' festivals do. ~ Nick Earls

Logen ambled over to him. If you're going to travel with a man, and maybe fight alongside him, it's best to talk, and laugh if you can. That way you can get an understanding, and then a trust. Trust is what binds a band together, and out there in the wilds that can make the difference between living or dying. Building that kind of trust takes time, and effort. Logen reckoned it was best to get started early, and today he had good humour to spare, so he stood next to Luthar and looked out at the park, trying to dream up some common ground in which to plant the seeds of an unlikely friendship. ~ Joe Abercrombie

Everybody enjoys what feels good. Everyone wants to live a carefree, happy, and easy life, to fall in love and have amazing sex and relationships, to look perfect and make money and be popular and well-respected and admired and a total baller to the point that people part like the Red Sea when they walk into the room. Everybody wants that. It's easy to want that. A more interesting question, a question that most people never consider, is, "What pain do you want in your life? What are you willing to struggle for?" Because that seems to be a greater determinant of how our lives turn out. For ~ Mark Manson

I ask you, what good is a big picture window and the lavish appointments and a priceless decor in a home if there is no mother there? ~ Spencer W. Kimball

Because come to think of it, I think those were great choices we made too, even though all those people worried that you and Sophia would be permanently damaged psychologically. And you know, the more i think about it, the madder I am getting. All these Western parents with the same party line about what's good for children and what's not-I am not sure that they are making choices at all. They just do what every one else does. They are not questioning anything either, which is what Westerners are supposed to be so good at doing. They just keep repeating things like "You have to give your children the freedom to pursue their passion" when it is obvious that the "passion" is just going to be Facebook for ten hours which is a total waste of time and eating all that disgusting junk food - I am telling you this country is going to go straight downhill. ~ Amy Chua

People have a very limited idea of what being creative is - playing the guitar or the flute or writing poetry - so people go on writing rubbish in the name of poetry. You have to find out what you can do and what you cannot do. Everybody cannot do everything. You have to search and find your destiny. You have to grope in the dark, I know. It is not very clear-cut what your destiny is, but that's how life is. And it is good that one has to search for it - in the very search, something grows. ~ Rajneesh

I've got a penny-ante talent, out of which I try to drum up a living for myself. And what nobody seems to realize is that it's just as difficult to get a bad idea as a good one. ~ Kathleen Winsor

This president and this is what the focus ought to be, it's not the differences between us, it's Barack Obama does not believe America's leadership in the world is a force for good. He does not believe that our strength is a place where security can take place. He leads from behind. He creates an environment that now we're creating the most unstable situation we've had since the World War II era. ~ Jeb Bush

One of the most beautifully disturbing questions we can ask, is whether a given story we tell about our lives is actually true, and whether the opinions we go over every day have any foundation or are things we repeat to ourselves simply so that we will continue to play the game. It can be quite disorienting to find that a story we have relied on is not only not true - it actually never was true. Not now not ever. There is another form of obsolescence that can fray at the cocoon we have spun about ourselves, that is, the story was true at one time, and for an extended period; the story was even true and good to us, but now it is no longer true and no longer of any benefit, in fact our continued retelling of it simply imprisons us. We are used to the prison however, we have indeed fitted cushions and armchairs and made it comfortable and we have locked the door from the inside.

The imprisoning story I identified by the time the entree was served was one I had told myself for a long time. "In order to write I need peace and quiet and an undisturbed place far from others or the possibility of being disturbed. I knew however, that if I wanted to enter the next creative stage, something had to change; I simply did not have enough free space between traveling, speaking and being a good father and husband to write what I wanted to write. The key in the lock turned surprisingly easy, I simply said to myself, "What if I acted as if it wasn't true any more, what if it had be ~ David Whyte

More than the choking heat, more than the blinding flames that rise up into the night sky, more than the endlessly leaping colours that change shape with every moment, more than all of these is the transforming power of fire. Fire takes solid wooden beams and reduces them to charcoal. It licks at everything with a scarlet tongue and leaves it black. It spreads like the folds of a golden robe over human bodies and what is left is gray and chalky: ash, blown up and up by every breath of wind only to fall like dust on the ground. When it is burning most fiercely, it seems that it might go on forever and devour everything in its path. It does not cower and withdraw in front of princes. Palace and hovel alike are good fuel and nothing more. It is unstoppable. And when it has moved, what remains is desolation. ~ Adele Geras

I'm walking off the dance floor when I see him. Peter, in a suit, standing to the side, beside the dogwood tree. He looks so handsome I can hardly stand it. I cross the backyard, and he watches me the whole time. My heart is pounding so hard. Is he here for me? Or did he just come because he promised my dad?
When I'm standing in front of him, I say, "You came."
Peter looks away. "Of course I came."
Softly I say, "I wish I could take back the things I said the other night. I don't even remember all of them."
Looking down, he says, "But you meant them, right? So it's a good thing you said them then, because somebody had to and you were right."
"Which part?" I whisper.
"About UNC. About me not transferring there." He lifts his head, his eyes wounded. "But you should have told me my mom talked to you."
I take a shaky breath. "You should have told me you were thinking about transferring! You should've told me how you were feeling, period. You shut down after graduation; you wouldn't let me in. You kept saying everything was going to be fine."
"Because I was fucking scared, okay!" he bursts out. He looks around to see if anyone heard, but the music is loud, and everyone is dancing; no one is looking at us, and it's like we are alone here in this backyard.
"What were you so scared about?" I whisper.
His hands tighten into fists at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out raw, like he hasn't used it in a while. "I was sc ~ Jenny Han

You're a Dark One," said Anton. "All you see in everything is evil, treachery, trickery."

"All I do is not close my eyes to them," Edgar retorted. "And that's why I don't trust Zabulon. I distrust him almost as much as I do Gesar. I can even trust you more - you're just another unfortunate chess piece who happens by chance to be painted a different color from me. Does a white pawn hate a black one? No. Especially if the two pawns have their heads down together over a quiet beer or two."

"You know," Anton said in a slightly surprised voice, "I just don't understand how you can carry on living if you see the world like that. I'd just go and hang myself."

"So you don't have any counterarguments to offer?"

Anton took a gulp of beer too. The wonderful thing about this natural Czech beer was that even if you drank lots of it, it still didn't make your head or your body feel heavy... Or was that an illusion?

"Not a single one," Anton admitted. "Right now, this very moment, not a single one. But I'm sure you're wrong. It's just difficult to argue about the colors of the rainbow with a blind man. There's something missing in you... I don't know what exactly. But it's something very important, and without it you're more helpless than a blind man. ~ Sergei Lukyanenko

I really have nothing against rationality, or even doing what you think is best, or doing what is more likely to satisfy your desires. I have tried these strategies at various times, occasionally with good results. But I think the ideal of the rational agent is the source of lots of needless unhappiness. It's not the way many of us operate; it's certainly not the way I operate. And operating the way we do usually works just fine, and really isn't a reason to hang our heads in shame and despair. ~ John R. Perry

It is a metaphor for life, perhaps, in that everything is a metaphor for life. The berry season is short. So how full, exactly, do I intend to fill the box? Or, if we slice away the metaphor, we could just ask this: what does the good life look like for me? ~ Laura Vanderkam

For, while the authority of the doctor or plumber is never questioned, everyone deems himself a good judge and an adequate arbiter of what a work of art should be and how it should be done. ~ Mark Rothko

It's a long day, isn't it?' he said. 'Yes,' I replied. There are many such statements in factory conversation, to which the answer is always yes, because they are not so much statements of opinion or fact as they are expressions of a kind of unity. It might be technically correct to reply, 'Today is exactly the same length as yesterday,' or 'You cannot reasonably say that the gauge is wrong,' or 'The manager works very hard,' or 'But it would be impossible to have intercourse in the office in the lunch break' - but it would definitely not be polite. The proper answer in all cases is 'Yes, you are right,' for such is the convention, and no purpose is served by going against it. I remember, years ago, a very young man who suddenly took it into his head to refuse to say 'Good morning' to everyone in the customary way. He said that it was meaningless because everyone knew that it wasn't a good morning at all because they were all at work, and that t was hypocrisy, too, to wish people a good morning when you knew you'd be sneering and carping at them behind their backs before the teabreak had started. Of course he was technically right - but he nearly had a nervous breakdown, and finished up on his knees begging people to say good morning to him. He had to leave, and I never did hear what became of him. ~ Peter Currell Brown

YOUR BEST ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH.
That sounds harsh, and indeed it is. But having worked with the best of the best over the last two decades, I've learned what it takes to be the best.
Anyone can hit excellence for a day, even a week or a month. That's easy. But a high performer is one who does it consistently for years over the course of a career.
You can be talented, work hard, and do all the right things, and it might not be enough. Not anymore. These days, performance is about results. It's not just showing up every day, working hard, and doing the right things. That's great. That's expected. Performance is about showing up every day and hitting the bull's eye regardless of the situation. ~ Mark Verstegen

What are you tittering at, Mr Holles?' asked Captain Aubrey.
'Nothing, sir.'
'Now I come to think of it, I have a letter from your guardian, Mr Holles. He wishes to be assured that your moral welfare is well in hand, and that you do not neglect your Bible. You do not neglect your Bibles, any of you, I dare say?'
'Oh, no, sir.'
'I am glad to hear it. Where the Devil would you be, if you neglected your Bible? Tell me, Mr Holles, who was Abraham?' Jack was particularly well up in this part of sacred history, having checked Admiral Drury's remarks on Sodom:
'Abraham, sir,' said Holles, his pasty, spotted face turning a nasty variegated purple. 'Why, Abraham was . .
But no more emerged, other than a murmur of 'bosom'.
'Mr Peters?' Mr Peters expressed his conviction that Abraham was a very good man; perhaps a corn-chandler, since one said 'Abraham and his seed for ever'. ~ Patrick O'Brian

The first time I took Reed hunting was when he was six years old. I took him on the last day of duck season, and we pulled right up to the water. I gave him a BB gun, and I had my shotgun. Our property was a haven for wood ducks, so that's what I wanted to shoot so he could see what made this spot so special. Wouldn't you know it? The first two ducks that flew in our sights were a mallard drake and hen. We were on a bank instead of in a blind, which was unusual, but the ducks floated down and lit about ten feet in front of us. More than anything, I showed Reed the power of a duck call, because the water in front of us was only about two inches deep. I couldn't believe the ducks were sitting there.
"I'm going to count to three," I whispered to Reed. "Get your BB gun. When I get to three, you fire.
"One, two, three!" I said.
Reed shot his BB gun, and I fired my shotgun at the same time. The drake never knew what hit him, and Reed immediately looked down at his BB gun. It was like he was thinking, What is this thing? I don't think he even realized I killed the duck with my shotgun. Reed was so excited that I don't believe he realized that I had shot, despite the fact of the booming sound. He looked back at me, and I told him, "Boy, you put a good shot on him, son. ~ Jase Robertson

You two should do the next partner project together," she said as she flipped through our portfolios. "You both have excellent designs, and you have polar opposite strengths. You'd do well together." Jake and I nodded respectfully, but under the table, he rubbed my leg. "I guess we're pretty good together," he whispered against my ear later in the hall. "Is that what she said? I thought she said you could learn a lot from me."
Reinhardt, Liz (2011-09-06). Double Clutch (A Brenna Blixen Novel) (p. 206). Kindle Edition. ~ Liz Reinhardt

If anyone attempted to rule the world by the gospel and to abolish all temporal law and sword on the plea that all are baptized and Christian, and that, according to the gospel, there shall be among them no law or sword - or need for either - pray tell me, friend, what would he be doing? He would be loosing the ropes and chains of the savage wild beasts and letting them bite and mangle everyone, meanwhile insisting that they were harmless, tame, and gentle creatures; but I would have the proof in my wounds. Just so would the wicked under the name of Christian abuse evangelical freedom, carry on their rascality, and insist that they were Christians subject neither to law nor sword, as some are already raving and ranting.

To such a one we must say: Certainly it is true that Christians, so far as they themselves are concerned, are subject neither to law nor sword, and have need of neither. But take heed and first fill the world with real Christians before you attempt to rule it in a Christian and evangelical manner. This you will never accomplish; for the world and the masses are and always will be unchristian, even if they are all baptized and Christian in name. Christians are few and far between (as the saying is). Therefore, it is out of the question that there should be a common Christian government over the whole world, or indeed over a single country or any considerable body of people, for the wicked always outnumber the good. Hence, a man who would venture to g ~ Martin Luther

Neil Young is my hero, and such a great example. You know what that guy has been doing for the past 40 years? Making music. That's what that guy does. Sometimes you pay attention, sometimes you don't. Sometimes he hands it to you, sometimes he keeps it to himself. He's a good man with a beautiful family and wonderful life. ~ Dave Grohl

If you're anything like me,
You bite your nails,
And laugh when you're nervous.
You promise people the world,
because that's what they want from you.
You like giving them what they want...
But darling, you need to stop,

If you're anything like me,
You knock on wood every time you make plans.
You cross your fingers, hold your breath,
Wish on lucky numbers and eyelashes
Your superstitions were the lone survivors of the shipwreck.
Rest In Peace, to your naive bravado...
If life gets too good now,
Darling, it scares you.

If you're anything like me,
You never wanted to lock your door,
Your secret garden gate or your diary drawer
Didn't want to face the you you don't know anymore
For fear she was much better before...
But Darling, now you have to.

If you're anything like me,
There's a justice system in your head
For names you'll never speak again,
And you make your ruthless rulings.
Each new enemy turns to steel
They become the bars that confine you,
In your own little golden prison cell...
But Darling, there is where you meet yourself.

If you're anything like me
You've grown to hate your pride
To love your thighs
And no amount of friends at 25
Will fill the empty seats
At the lunch tables of your past
The teams that picked you last...
But Darling, you keep trying.

If yo ~ Taylor Swift

A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good. ~ Steven Wright

I mean, what is prison, really, except a good bar without the liquor? ~ John Waters

I think it helps to have a good old-fashioned trajectory, plodding along. Obviously one has an ego and it's really easy to have that ego tickled, but what helps me get through the night is if I concentrate on just quality of work so that I don't panic about my profile. ~ Anne-Marie Duff

Sometimes you only get one chance at something. Sometimes that's a good thing too. When that door slams shut on the thing you couldn't live without, what happens next is when the read education begins. You have to figure out how to make some peace with it all, how to have an interior life you can live with. Digging down deep is really never a bad thing in the end, but it will flat-out kick your ass while it's happening. ~ Amanda Kyle Williams

So you were looking for a bathroom in the woods?"
"Well, yes." She swallowed. "Sort of. But then I heard a splash and saw you…" Her cheeks were practically purple now.
I played dumb. "Saw me what?"
"Saw you naked, OK?" she blurted, throwing her hands up. "I admit it - I saw you naked."
I had no hang-ups about nudity, but I was damn serious about my privacy, and about people sneaking up on me. But her embarrassment was funny. The two times I'd seen her before, she'd been so polished and poised. It felt good to put her in her place a little. "So you climbed a tree for a better view, is that it? ~ Melanie Harlow

What good is this body? Let it go in helping others. Did not the Master preach until the very end? And shall I not do the same? I do not care a straw if the body goes. You cannot imagine how happy I am when I find earnest seekers after truth to talk to. In the work of waking up Atman in my fellow men I shall gladly die again and again! ~ Swami Vivekananda

Tom carried with him a glass full of wine, which clearly hadn't been his first of the evening. He swaggered and swayed as he started to speak, and his eyes, while not quite at half mast, were certainly well on their way.
"In my mind," Tom began, "this is what love is all about."
Sounded good. A little slurred, but it was nice and simple.
"And…and…and in my mind," Tom continued, "in my mind, I know this is all about…this is all love here."
Oh dear. Oh no.
"And all I can say is that in my mind," he went on, "it's just so great to know that true love is possible right now in this time."
Crickets. Tap-tap. Is this thing on?
"I've known this guy for a long, long time," he resumed, pointing to Marlboro Man, who was sitting and listening respectfully. "And…in my mind, all I have to say is that's a long…long time."
Tom was dead serious. This was not a joke toast. This was not a ribbing toast. This was what was "in his mind." He made that clear over and over.
"I just want to finish by saying…that in my mind, love is…love is…everything," he continued.
People around the room began to snicker. At the large table where Marlboro Man and I sat with our friends, people began to crack up.
Everyone except Marlboro Man. Instead of snickering and laughing at his friend--whom he'd known since they were boys and who, he knew, had recently gone through a rough couple of years--Marlboro Man quietly motioned to everyone at our table with a tactfu ~ Ree Drummond

Pimpin' ain't easy, but it's necessary, especially if you wanna fully utilize the power of your kitchen. You can't have your spatulas and whisks runnin' around like they own the place. Having the right utensils is a good start, but then you gotta show them who's the boss up in this bitch. In this chapter, I'm gonna tell you what you need to get started, what you don't need, and how to know if you're ready to become a full-fledged KP. ~ Coolio

Diffidence in an officer is a good mark because he will always endeavor to bring himself up to what he conceives to be the full line of his duty. ~ George Washington

What makes a good judge? Confidence for one. An expert, in Shanteau's view, is someone good at convincing others he or she is an expert. Good judges may make small errors, but they will "generally avoid large mistakes." When they encounter exceptions, experts are good at making"single-case deviations in their decision patterns." Novices, meanwhile, tend to stick stubbornly to the rules, even when they are inappropriate. ~ Tom Vanderbilt

Imagine if you would, what would happen to your sorrows and fears if God Himself, the maker of heaven and earth, the Father of our Lord, the sovereign One, were to come to you, wrap you in His almighty arms and say to you, 'I love you with a perfect love, exactly as I love My Son. I will never stop loving you, no matter what. I am completely, utterly for you. I promise, on My own life, that I will do you good every day of your life. And because I control all things, that means My good is all you will ever experience from this time forward.' ~ R.C. Sproul Jr.

Fuck, Ali." "That's what we're doing." He smiles. "I don't think I'll ever tire of you. I don't know what to do." That makes the two of us. To muffle his words and my rattled brain, I bend down and kiss him again. It feels so damn good with Ali deep inside of me. I won't need too much more stimulation to come again. Neither will he. He pushes himself up to meet me. All I can hear is our laboured breaths, and the slapping of our flesh together. Ali soon tenses and thrusts upwards into me again and again with full force, driving the couch across the floor, until he's spent. I move off him, and wrap my hand around myself. Ali's zonedout eyes are utterly absorbed by me as Ijerk off; his concentration consumes every inch of me when I give in to pleasuring myself and I come all over his abs. Ali's grin is precious. "Come here." We ignore the sticky mess between us. I reach down and let myself be hugged this time while I calm down from the intensity of sex. As I do that, Ali idly strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. "You're incredible." I can say the same about him. Ali and I together feel effortless ~ A. Zukowski

I'm the living dead. I feel no connection to any other human. I have no friends and I don't really care much about my family any longer. I feel no love for them.

I can feel no joy. I'm incapable of feeling physical pleasure. There's nothing to ever look forward to as a result. I don't miss anyone or anything. I eat because I feel hunger pangs, but no food tastes like anything I like.

I wear a mask when I'm with other people but it's been slipping lately. I can't find the energy to hide the heavy weight of survival and its effect on me. I'm exhausted all the time from the effort of just making it through the day.

This depression has made a mockery of my memory. It's in tatters. I have no good memories to sustain me. My past is gone. My present is horrid. My future looks like more of the same. In a way, I'm a man without time. Certainly, there's no meaning in my life. What meaning can there be without even a millisecond of joy? Ah, scratch that. Let's even put aside joy and shoot for lower. How about a moment of being content? Nope. Not a chance.

I see other people, normal people, who can enjoy themselves. I hear people laughing at something on TV. It makes me cock my head and wonder what that's like. I'm sure at sometime in my past, I had to have had a wonderful belly laugh. I must have laughed so hard once or twice that my face hurt. Those memories are gone though. Now, the whole concept of "funny" is dead. I stopped going to movies ~ Ahmed Abdelazeem

An offer indeed," said Lord Brandoch Daha; "if it be not in mockery. Say it loud, that my folk may hear." Corund did so, and the Demons heard it from the walls of the burg. Lord Brandoch Daha stood somewhat apart from Juss and Spitfire and their guard. "Libel it me out," he said. "For good as I now must deem thy word, thine hand and seal must I have to show my followers ere they consent with me in such a thing."
"Write thou," said Corund to Gro. "To write my name is all my scholarship." And Gro took forth his ink-born and wrote in a great fair hand this offer on a parchment. "The most fearfullest oaths thou knowest," said Corund; and Gro wrote them, whispering, "He mocketh us only." But Corund said, "No matter: 'tis a chance worth our chancing," and slowly and with labour signed his name to the writing, and gave it to Lord Brandoch Daha. Brandoch Daha read it attentively, and tucked it in his bosom beneath his byrny.
"This," he said, "shall be a keepsake for me of thee, my Lord Corund. Reminding me," and here his eyes grew terrible, "so long as there surviveth a soul of you in Witchland, that I am still to teach the world throughly what that man must abide that durst affront me with such an offer. ~ E.R. Eddison

He cannot do anything deliberate now. The strain of his whole weight on his outstretched arms hurts too much. The pain fills him up, displaces thought, as much for him as it has for everyone else who has ever been stuck to one of these horrible contrivances, or for anyone else who dies in pain from any of the world's grim arsenal of possibilities. And yet he goes on taking in. It is not what he does, it is what he is. He is all open door: to sorrow, suffering, guilt, despair, horror, everything that cannot be escaped, and he does not even try to escape it, he turns to meet it, and claims it all as his own. This is mine now, he is saying; and he embraces it with all that is left in him, each dark act, each dripping memory, as if it were something precious, as if it were itself the loved child tottering homeward on the road. But there is so much of it. So many injured children; so many locked rooms; so much lonely anger; so many bombs in public places; so much vicious zeal; so many bored teenagers at roadblocks; so many drunk girls at parties someone thought they could have a little fun with; so many jokes that go too far; so much ruining greed; so much sick ingenuity; so much burned skin. The world he claims, claims him. It burns and stings, it splinters and gouges, it locks him round and drags him down…

All day long, the next day, the city is quiet. The air above the city lacks the usual thousand little trails of smoke from cookfires. Hymns rise from the temple. Fa ~ Francis Spufford

There's no happy ending ... Nevertheless, we might well say that is exactly Harriet Beecher Stowe's point. In 1852 slavery had not been abolished. Slaves were still on the plantations and many of them were in the hands of people like Legree. Her book was written to shame the collective conscience of America into action against an atrocity which was still continuing. So a happy ending would have been, frankly, a lie and a betrayal. ...

Most of the charges are basically true. Stowe did stereotype. She did sentimentalize. She offered a role model which later offended African American pride. On the other hand, what she did worked. She wasn't trying to provide a role model for African Americans. She was trying to make white Americans ashamed of themselves. ...

Perhaps the short answer to her critics is to ask, "Do you want glory, approval, all those good things? Or do you want to achieve your goal? ~ Thomas A. Shippey

...when the bullets fly and sundry erratic fragments of shell are seeking
a fellowʼs life, and he has to lay low in the pits to keep his light from being snuffed
out, then is a good opportunity to reckon up and balance accounts with the world
in general and a fellowʼs near relatives and family in particular. Many, many,
many a time have I thought of the careless word or deed never recalled, or
amended, and during those midnight hours would I have given almost life itself to
have the opportunity of making amends for them. Not through fear of what is
beyond this life, but in order that after my flesh had turned to dust, and my bones
to traces of white lime, those that knew me in life could say, "Charlie is gone, and
though his life was full of inconsistencies, still he was a good hearted fellow, and
if he did not amount to much as man, still he done no one any harm." Charlie Biddlecom January 22, 1865 ~ Katherine M. Aldridge

I dedicate my work today to the furtherance of all things good. Whether I am paid or not, whether I am working out in the world or planting my own garden, I dedicate whatever I am doing today to the uplifting of all things. May the activity of my mind and work of my hands be of service to the healing of the world. Today I remember that there is only one work: to be who I am capable of being, to do what I am capable of doing to make the world a better place. May my life be of use to something greater than myself, that I might feel the joy of being used. Dear God, Today I dedicate all I am and all that I have, That love might use me as a conduit of its power. Illumine my mind and increase my understanding, Hone my personality and deepen my skills, That all I do might glorify Your presence in the world. And so it is. Amen. ~ Marianne Williamson

Why worry about doing something you love? Figure out what the opportunity is. Find a thing, get good at it, learn to love it later. ~ Mike Rowe