“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is something valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit,” E. E. Cummings.

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory,” Roald Dahl.

“We are the silver lining in any and every dark cloud we could ever find. There is no need to go looking for the light when you bring it with you,” Tyler Knott Gregson.

“When you spend your whole life living in a hole, the only way you can go is up,” Louis Sachar.

“And though she be but little, she is fierce,” William Shakespeare.

“Make a difference. Make this world a little better because you lived in it,” Henry Rowan.

“It’s impossible to make your eyes twinkle if you aren’t feeling twinkly yourself,” Roald Dahl.

“If you are going to get anywhere in life, you have to read a lot of books,” Roald Dahl.

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall,” F. Scott Fitzgerald.

“Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves,” Sir James Barrie.

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience,” Eleanor Roosevelt.

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places. But still, there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater,” J. R. R. Tolkein.

“If you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams, and you will always look lovely,” Roald Dahl.

“Believe in yourself and all that you are. Know that there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle,” Christian D. Larson.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the sky,” Jack Kerouac.


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