Jo Boniszewski

If it matters, it will hurt like knives or wrap and lift you in the most immeasurable joy. Or both. One thing is certain, you will feel intensely alive.

You bring out the be(a)st in me. Polarized tension, a raw slash of claw, swathed softly in love. A peace of my mind in tumultuous chaotic razor-sharp clarity, impulsive wit to wisdom, mixing addictive shots of cocktail emotions in a full-spectrum experience.

The sky was the color of hard crimson, dripping down a canvas, the moon splashed silver across red. Her soothing balm healing my soul in swathes of calmness, I breathe in her tides and let my body be washed ashore, lying in the sands of eternity.

I am a sky gazer. The sky, it pulls at me. Its amazing eternal expanse of breathtaking beauty calls me back to my senses, stretches my awareness, soothes my eyes, opens my heart, stills me. I feel a soft soul longing to be up there, in the vastness, amongst the clouds that are alive and billow and skud and glow; metamorphosing from perfection into perfection. A constantly changing canvas brushed by magic.

The connection between us runs so strong and deep. It’s like a steel cable stretching across the ocean bed, so many fathoms below, that even the most skilled and courageous of deep sea divers cannot reach it to cut it. It remains strong, silent, invisible, invincible.

This body of mine is my teacher. This heart of mine, my guide. My dear head struggles to make sense of it all whilst my hands gently remind me to trust and let go.

Personally, I’m always ready to learn, although I do not always like being taught.

The death of a dear friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation of new ones more friendly to the growth of character.

Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.

The beginning is the most important part of the work.

The masses have no habit of self reliance or original action.

Say what you have to say and first time you come to a sentence with a grammatical ending; sit down.

He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.

Fidelity has enfranchised slaves, and adopted servants to be sons.

If we attend continually and promptly to the little that we can do, we shall ere long be surprised to find how little remains that we cannot do.

One of the lessons that I grew up with was to always stay true to yourself and never let what somebody else says distract you from your goals.

Best friend, my well-spring in the wilderness!

If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be.

He was a great patriot, a humanitarian, a loyal friend; provided, of course, he really is dead.

Dreams are the touchstones of our characters.

He then learns that in going down into the secrets of his own mind he has descended into the secrets of all minds.