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What we take from the spirit world is only a reflection of what lies inside ourselves.

Beyond love, beyond unrequited love, perhaps even beyond any other passion known to humanity, deep, deep in the depths of the turgid, clinging, swamplike pit of despair that lies dormant within every soul, lurks JEALOUSY. Jealousy, that most demeaning and debilitating of emotions. Jealousy, which can double the strength of the love upon which it is based, but whilst doubling it, warp and pervert it, untill it is no longer recognizable as the thing of beauty it once was. Jealous love is no more like true love than Mr Hyde was like Dr Jekyll or a stagnant swamp is like a freshwater lake.
My twenties were great. Who didn't have fun in their twenties? But my attention was more out there, more about the surface stuff and the cosmetic stuff. I was always thinking, 'What do I need to do?' Now in my thirties, it's, 'What do I want to do?' I've just become more solid with my own identity. So whoever wants to say their twenties are better... Yes, they're fun, especially at night - better parties, better cocktails... not better sex though. Absolutely not. And whoever says that is lying because sex in your thirties and beyond is f**king out of this world.

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