THE BOY RODE ALONG THROUGH THE DESERT FOR SEVERAL hours, listening avidly to what his heart had to say. It was his heart that would tell him where his treasure was hidden. “Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart,” the alchemist had told him. But his heart was speaking of other things.

the same kind of Diefenbachia that Grandmother Waterhouse used to have growing on the counter in her downstairs bathroom.

you can only love someone who is an echo of yourself at your time of deepest sorrow.

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.

Written By Maya Angelou

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