“Few people have the imagination for reality.”

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.

I wait for the morning of my tears.

I have so much in me, and the feeling for her absorbs it all; I have so much, and without her it all comes to nothing.

Anxiety is living with an apple on your head and you imagine that everyone you know stands watching with a bow to shoot an arrow at it.

I remember things the way they should have been.

I was never much of a reader when I was a boy. Books bored me. I liked action. But I spent a lot of time thinking about things. I’d imagine all kinds of situations and how I would handle them.

Nothing in the world can one imagine beforehand,not the least thing,everything is made up of so many unique particulars that cannot be forseen.

The rank and file are usually much more primitive than we imagine. Propaganda must therefore always be essentially simple and repetitious.

Whatever one man is capable of imagining, other men will prove themselves capable of realizing.

Anything a man can imagine, another can create.

Reality provides us with facts so romantic that imagination itself could add nothing to them.