maybe mediocrity isn’t wrong. maybe you don’t need to be the best at everything you do. maybe you don’t need to be the best at anything you do. it’s ok to simply do things because you enjoy doing them. its ok to not want to advance in your job. nothing has to be a competition. you don’t need to be better than anyone. you can do things just because they’re fun. you don’t need to read up on the history, and know everything about it. its ok to just exist. its ok.

you don’t talk too much. you aren’t too loud. you aren’t too needy. you aren’t too sensitive. you aren’t too this, or that. you aren’t too much anything. you will never be too much: you are you, and you are allowed to take up space. you are allowed to exist however you choose.

You will never be able to escape from your heart. So it’s better to listen to what it has to say.

The night gardener once asked me if I knew how citrus trees died: when they reach old age, if they are not cut down and they manage to survive drought, disease and innumerable attacks of pests, fungi and plagues, they succumb from overabundance. When they come to the end of their life cycle, they put out a final, massive crop of lemons. In their last spring their flowers bud and blossom in enormous bunches and fill the air with a smell so sweet that it stings your nostrils from two blocks away; then their fruits ripen all at once, whole limbs break off due to their excessive weight, and after a few weeks the ground is covered with rotting lemons. It is a strange sight, he said, to see such exuberance before death.

“And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.”

"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity."

You would rather have gone on feeling nothing, emptiness and silence; the stagnant peace of the deepest sea, which is easier than the noise and flesh of the surface.