Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

It’s not about the number of hours you practice, it’s about the number of hours your mind is present during the practice.

Stop complaining about having no time for yourself and get up an hour earlier. You have the option, why not exercise it?

I love the fact that I can make people happy, in any form. Even if it’s just an hour of their lives, if I can make them feel lucky or make them feel good, or bring a smile to a sour face, that to me is worthwhile.

I’ve never known any trouble than an hour’s reading didn’t assuage.