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The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)
And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.
We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way.
Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.
Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.
In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)
And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.
We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way.
Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.
Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.
In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.
"Writing is thinking. To write well is to think clearly." — Isaac Asimov
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