Actually, years mean nothing. It's what's inside them.

But those who seek only reassurance from life will never be more than tourists—seeing everything and trying to possess what can only be felt.
Beauty is the shadow of imperfection.

The present grows within the boundaries of the past.

The very best and the very worst of life will come from [their] ability to love strangers.

Every moment is the paradox of now or never.

It is not the years in your life but the life in your years that counts.