“Oh! The good times when we were so unhappy.”

Misfortune does not help us to believe.

All for one and one for all, united we stand divided we fall.

Often we pass beside happiness without seeing it, without looking at it, or even if we have seen and looked at it, without recognizing it.

You scholars, you’re in communication with the devil.

Through the ingenuousness of her age beamed an ardent mind, a mind not of the women but of the poet; she did not please, she intoxicated.

Your life story is a novel; and people, though they love novels wound between two yellow paper covers, are oddly suspicious of those which come to them in living vellum.

So he went down, smiling sceptically and mutter the final word in human wisdom: ‘Perhaps!

How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure!

Besides we are men, and after all it is our business to risk our lives.

No, I slept as I always do when I am bored and have not the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungry and have not the desire to eat.

Love is the most selfish of all the passions.

Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes.

It is almost as difficult to keep a first class person in a fourth class job, as it is to keep a fourth class person in a first class job.

Order is the key to all problems.

Be kind. Aim for my heart.

In politics, my dear fellow, you know, as well as I do, there are no men, but ideas – no feelings, but interests; in politics we do not kill a man, we only remove an obstacle, that is all.

She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.

Events appear sad, pleasant, or painful, not because they are so in reality, but because we believe them to be so and the light in which we look at them depends upon our own judgment.

All unhappiness is due to the ego. With it comes all your trouble. If you would deny the ego and scorch it by ignoring it you would be free.

This might sound masochistic or narcissistic‚ I don’t know‚ but when I’m not playing the game‚ the validations I feel about life are always through the hardships. I relate more to sadness‚ in a lot of ways‚ when I’m not playing.

I want to wade into the water on the sidewalk, crawl out of this feeling without giving it a name. Take a lighter to love’s sticky edges so its sadness isn’t caught in my throat.

You are the sand that doesn’t stick when I am dry and sad.

You are sad in the midst of every blessing. Take care that Fortune does not observe–or she will call you ungrateful.

I overwhelmingly write from sadness – in songs, in prose, in verse.