Perfect

A weed is just a flower growing in the wrong place

There’s the person who you think you should be and there’s the person who you really are. I’ve lost sense of both.

And there are the very special people in our lives who have the endless capacity to love us for all of our flaws.

The irony of justice is that the feelings that precede it and those which fruit from it are never fair and balanced.

There is a space that people hold for you, within themselves. Every person has a space for every person they met - sometimes the capacity is deep, sometimes it is shallow.

Maybe the strongest fighters are the nurturers because they’re connected to something deep in their core, they’ve got something to fight for, they’ve got something worth saving. Granddad

THERE’S THE PERSON you think you should be and there’s the person you really are. I’m not sure who I should be, but I now know who I am. And that, I say, is the perfect place to start again.

It can take a lifetime to build up a friendship- it can take a second to make an enemy.

I don't believe in magic, yet I see making wishes as a nod to hope, an acknowledgement of the power of will, the recognition of a goal.

NO. For someone to win, somebody else must lose. For that person to have won they must have lost something in the first place. The irony of justice is that the feelings that precede it and those which fruit from it are never fair and balanced. Not even justice itself is perfect.

As women, we dress to please ourselves, to hide our imperfections, to accentuate our best features. Our clothing is an extension of who we are, a reflection of what we are thinking and feeling.

There's the person you think you should be and there's the person you really are. I'm not sure who I should be, but I now know who I am. And that, I say, is the perfect place to start again

A WEED IS just a flower growing in the wrong place.

I have too many wishes and feel that none of them are within my reach. But I also believe that the moment we're beyond making wishes is either the moment we're truly happy, or the moment to give up