We stress and obsess over wealth we possess but death takes away every dime; A much better measure of what we should treasure is how we have spent our life’s time.

Sometimes words, like stars, align in stellar patterns, where they shine. Sometimes words, like wraiths, degrade and slink in shadows, where they fade.

With crazed now craved for content clicks, iconoclasts act kind for kicks.

It’s never too late to just wait a bit later and summon the will of a procrastinator.

I like to think old souls are shared and each new birth is death repaired.

If new books filled my shelf each day, I think it’d feel enchanted Yet a library sits one block away, and I take it for granted.

Some words ignite. Some words defuse. Be careful with the words you choose.

Holding a book and perusing its pages has made our brains better and brighter for ages but holding a screen that we scroll through and swipe makes minds more inclined to embitter and gripe.

You don’t need a reason for kind things you say. You don’t need a motive to make someone’s day. You don’t need a cause to commit acts of grace. Unprompted goodwill is a gift all embrace.

They’ll batter you with banter and smite you with a smile. They’ll lash at you with laughter to wound you for a while. But mocking words won’t break you; that’s not how you’re defined. Just mind the things that matter, and chatter, you won’t mind.

In life I’ve said a lot of words, and many I forget. But I remember every word I’ve said that I regret. I wish that I could take them back if life let me rewind, for now I know how pain can grow from words that are not kind.

I think books are best read in the quiet of night When the screens are asleep but a lamp still gives light And a shadow descends on each page as you turn Until words are revealed, and you read, and you learn.

Don’t just read to ease your mind; Read things that help move it. Don’t just speak to soothe your soul; Say things that improve it. Don’t just love who loves you back; Love when love is trying. Don’t just live to take up time; Do good before dying.

Apps and adware track our movements. Algorithms train our brains. Wish we could rewind and find Where peace of mind remains.

Before we knew the world was round, the ocean must have seemed To halt at the horizon, then descend to lands undreamed. Good thing the maw of earth’s flat end did not deter our reach, For if we let the unknown win, we’d still be on the beach.

The sound of pages turning At a steady, measured speed Is like an author’s symphony Composed of words to read.