Many men are broken in spirit because of bitterness.

Some people do everything, some do something, many do nothing - which is bad enough - but the worst of the lot are those who break down what others have built.

To be the salt, you also need to be the shaker. To shake the world. Shake the truth. Shake the people. Shake the word. Have it sprinkle, melt and preserve humanity.

The only way to make a spoilt machine work again is to break it down, work on its inner system and fix it again. Screw out the bolts of your life, examine and work on yourself, fix your life again and get going.

I needed her to stop. Needed not to hear the pain in her voice--to see the way she was twisting the pocketbook strap. If she kept talking, she might break down and tell me everything.

Become so strong and grounded in your own self that when someone walks out on you it is they who should regret not you.When someone leaves you at your weakest moment you feel that the sky has fallen on you. A feeling of being dumped after being used fills you; your very being cries out from deep within.That is the time you have to become strong- which you are. It is they who have been mean, broken your trust, shattered the faith you had in them and generally behaved like rats on a sinking ship. That’s when you should understand that you are no sinking ship but a properly grounded person, someone to whom everyone turns for help or advice and a lighthouse which has guided many ships during storms.Let them find out that you don’t break down so easily- you are made of much sterner stuff. It is they that have lost a good friend, an able guide, a reliable companion and a very strong person. It is they who should feel lost and at sea. Good riddance. Move on and shine bright.

Have you ever loved someone so much that even when they chip pieces away from you, you still try to give them what’s left? I know I have… I know I do.

I follow the path we’ve taken so many times this summer – across the front, down the street, cut back through a neighbor’s yard, down the stairs to the beach, past the pier, through the campfire labyrinth, up to the deck of the Shack, and straight into Sam’s arms. Without speaking, he kisses me hard on the mouth and I kiss him back, sobbing and crumpling into his chest like a broken puppet.

For nearly four weeks, his family had been walking on eggshells around him, expecting him to fall apart at any moment and he was damn tired of it. He wished he could apart. Maybe it would hurt less if he could just say to hell with everything and find a corner to hide away in.

The kind of love bounded by the sympathy will break down by arrogance.