“The desire to seem clever often keeps us from being so.”

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

Hope, deceiving as it is, serves at least to lead us to the end of our lives by an agreeable route.

What makes the pain we feel from shame and jealousy so cutting is that vanity can give us no assistance in bearing them.

It is almost always a fault of one who loves not to realize when he ceases to be loved.

Everyone complains of his memory, and nobody complains of his judgment.

It is easier to know men in general, than men in particular.

We seldom find people ungrateful so long as it is thought we can serve them.

No man is clever enough to know all the evil he does.

Quarrels would not last long if the fault was only on one side.

The principal point of cleverness is to know how to value things just as they deserve.

We should often feel ashamed of our best actions if the world could see all the motives which produced them.

Some people displease with merit, and others’ very faults and defects are pleasing.

No man deserves to be praised for his goodness, who has it not in his power to be wicked. Goodness without that power is generally nothing more than sloth, or an impotence of will.

The reason why so few people are agreeable in conversation is that each is thinking more about what he intends to say than others are saying.

We would rather speak ill of ourselves than not talk about ourselves at all.

The virtues and vices are all put in motion by interest.

I hope to keep bringing home bound paper books until my shelves snap from their weight, until there is no room in my apartment for a bed or a couch or another human being, until the floorboards collapse and my eyes blur to dim. But the book, bless it, is not a simple thing.

Nobody kicks on being interrupted if it’s by applause.

There’s a huge difference between being in love and being in love with the thought of love. Recognize the difference. Never settle.

I do love the beginning of the summer hols,’ said Julian. They always seem to stretch out ahead for ages and ages.’ ‘They go so nice and slowly at first,’ said Anne, his little sister. ‘Then they start to gallop.

I’m lucky because the strongest emotion I have ever felt is being in love, and that definitely informs my writing.

If all you boast of your great art be true; Sure, willing poverty lives most in you.

A single twig breaks, but the bundle of twigs is strong.

A life of gratitude to God for being saved is far more pleasing than a life based on self-righteousness over being good.