Illness is the great confessional . . . Things are said. Truths blurted out which the cautious respectability of health conceals.

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The deeper our faith, the more doubt we must endure; the deeper our hope, the more prone we are to despair; the deeper our love, the more pain its loss will bring: these are a few of the paradoxes we must hold as human beings. If we refuse to old them in the hopes of living without doubt, despair and pain, we also find ourselves living without faith, hope and love.

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People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did but people will never forget how you made them feel.

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People react primarily to direct experience and not to abstractions; it is very rare to find anyone who can become emotionally involved with an abstraction.

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For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

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Illness is the night side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.

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Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you’re tired. You look like you could go on forever.

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Weakness is not a handicap but a treasure that others still have to discover.

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True strength is delicate.

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Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves.

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My view of human nature is that all of us are just holding it together in various ways — and that’s okay, and we just need to go easy with one another, knowing that we’re all these incredibly fragile beings.

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But in moments of pain or anger, when words spring from the rawest recesses of the heart, they can amplify our deepest insecurities and emotional vulnerabilities, in turn fueling a maelstrom of mutual misunderstanding.

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If we are afraid of our desert places then we become more afraid of the vulnerability outside ourselves — of the other.

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Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.

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If you want to find grace in a culture that is constantly devouring itself alive, if you want to live in hope and not fear, you have to tell the truth and declare your fragility.

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Art has a way of confronting us, of reminding us, of engaging us, in what it means to be human, and what it means to be human is to be flawed, is to be contradictory, is to be often weak, and yet despite all of these what we would consider drawbacks, that we’re also quite beautiful.

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Not all Indigenous people that live here in Canada have been able to pick up the drum, have been able to dance, have been able to let their voice out…we really have to remember those…people that are still trying to heal, still trying to find their voice.

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Damaged people damage other people.

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