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If nothing ever changed, there would be no such things as butterflies.

Wendy Mass

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Wendy Mass
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: April 22
Author
Writer
Livingston
New Jersey
Nothing
Things
Would
Butterflies
Butterfly
Changed
Ever

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When people see you're happy doing what you're doing, it sort of takes the power away from them to tease you about it.
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(T)he world is broken up into pieces, and...it's up to everyone to help put it all back together. It's about recognizing the spark of life in everyone and everything, and gluing those shards back together.
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I'm going to be so normal that when people look up normal in the dictionary, my name will be there.
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I'm sorry for the randomness of what I wrote, Mr. Oswald. There's been a lot to absorb.' Without looking up, he says, 'Never apologize for writing your truth, Mr. Fink. There are no right or wrong answers.
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My arms flew up of thier own accord knoking my bag down. I grabbed hold of the desk to keep myself from falling down.
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Maybe some things aren't meant to be known. maybe there just meant to be accepted.
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After all, they'd be busy for a while, they were Candymakers now, and they had a whole lotta candy to make.
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The thing about leaving something behind for the last time is that you rarely realize you're doing it.
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If everyone waited to do something good until they had purely unselfish motivations, no good would ever get done in the world. The point is to do it anyway.
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I blame my dad for my sweet tooth. His motto was 'Life is short eat dessert first.' How can I argue with that?
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The sidelines may be safer but life is played on the field
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Everyone thinks I named my cat Mango because of his orange eyes, but that's not the case. I named him Mango because the sounds of his purrs and his wheezes and his meows are all various shades of yellow-orange.
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comparing what you see during an eclipse to the darkness at night is like comparing an ocean to a teardrop.
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My eyes are bright, my hair has come loose from its ribbon, and Stella's scarf is waving around my neck. But that's not what I see when I look at the picture. I see three unlikely friends holding hands. And Ryan, Kenny, and Melanie are standing behind us, rapt. And in the sky above us, I see a miracle.
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Whereever you end up Jack whispered into my ear.I wish you clear skies. Always
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Nothing nice you ever do for anyone is for no reason.
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Whoa! she says as I plow into her. What are you DOING? Get off me! I hang on tight. Can't a girl just hug her big sister? She stops fighting me. Are you dying? Am I dying? Did Grandma die? I laugh. No one died. Then get off!
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I am not plain, or average or - God forbid - vanilla. I am peanut butter rocky road with multicolored sprinkles, hot fudge and a cherry on top.
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Sometimes the best things look the strangest.
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and as streams of light fan out behind the darkened sun like the wings of a butterfly, i realize that i never saw true beauty until now.
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