“Two souls, alas, are housed within my breast, and each will wrestle for the mastery there.”

If I love you, what business is it of yours?

How often do I lull my seething blood to rest, for you have never seen anything so unsteady, so uncertain, as this heart.

Every day I observe more and more the folly of judging of others by ourselves; and I have so much trouble with myself, and my own heart is in such constant agitation, that I am well content to let others pursue their own course, if they only allow me the same privilege.

Difficulties increase the nearer we get to the goal.

We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.

A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.

Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others, and in their pleasure takes joy, even as though ’twere his own.

The greatest evil that can befall man is that he should come to think ill of himself.

Every day one should at least hear one little song, read one good poem, see one fine painting and – if at all possible – speak a few sensible words.

If any man wish to write in a clear style, let him be first clear in his thoughts; and if any would write in a noble style, let him first possess a noble soul.

We often feel that we lack something, and seem to see that very quality in someone else, promptly attributing all our own qualities to him too, and a kind of ideal contentment as well. And so the happy mortal is a model of complete perfection–which we have ourselves created.

What is uttered from the heart alone will win the heart of others to your own.

We usually lost today because there has been a yesterday, and tomorrow is coming.

The limits of my language are the limits of my universe.

The heights charm us, but the steps do not; with the mountain in our view we love to walk the plains.

I treat my heart like a sick child and gratify its every fancy.

Standing between who we are, and who we want to be, is that which we find easiest to be.

We are all prisoner, but the name of our cure is not freedom.

Time ensures that we heal; not that we forget; In forgetting how a scar came to be, is to silently invite another injury.

You can worry, or you can be wise. You cannot be both, at the same time.

It is only because he became like us that we can become like him.

Every person I failed to forgive, I became.

Never forget that the devil is there 24/7 too. He’s very, very busy.

History is a set of lies agreed upon.