When nights are dark, we pray for dawn. When burdens weigh, we carry on. When grief surrounds, we search for grace. When pulled apart, we still embrace.

The cost of algorithmic thought exceeds the benefits we’ve bought. Let not give up the hard-won gains we’ve gotten from our human brains.

It’s hard to explain what we can’t understand. It’s hard to hold on with an unsteady hand. It’s hard to console when we struggle to cope. Sometimes we all need some improbable hope.

We need not repeat the ventriloquist’s voice. We don’t have to dance to the puppeteer’s strings. We’re all on this stage and we all have a choice: To follow along, or to do our own things.

As books recede, the screens gain ground. As bindings fade, we are less bound. As pixels glow, our charges drain. If books are gone, what will remain?

Maybe an engraving on a watch or in a ring; Maybe with a tape-recorded speech or song you sing; Maybe in a letter sealed and folded into thirds; It’s a gift to give the ones you love your love in words.

Before you critique, first try to create. Before you reject, first try to relate. Before you condemn, first share your concern. Your judgment improves the more that you learn.

The chivalrous way to respond to a slight is ignore when they’re wrong and improve when they’re right.

Every day we live means one less day we have till dying. Try to seize each day, and when it’s hard, just keep on trying. Life will twist and turn and will astonish and amaze. Go enjoy the ride before you find you’re out of days.

I’m biblio-baffled by biblio-tech. Books by A.I. seem a biblio-wreck. I wrote my own book and I’m biblio-glad this bibliophile’s a biblio-dad. I hope that young authors will choose to rely on words from their hearts and their minds- not A.I.

Reincarnation would work so much better if old folks could mail the next baby a letter.

If you minimize risk, you can lengthen your years. If you sacrifice dreams, you can placate your fears. If you never make waves, you can drift with the tide. But when breathing your last, you may wish you had tried.

I can amble, I can strut, I can stroll like I don’t care, but I’ve learned what really matters isn’t how you walk, but where.

A writer who pens at a vigorous pace Will often print words that one ought to erase While writing with more lackadaisical speed Lets writers give thoughts the reflection they need.

The more you give, the more gets given Which makes the world more fun to live in.

A little hope can lift dreams high. A little help can get friends by. A little heart can make us feel. A little hurt can scar, but heal.