There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
One can remain alive ... if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity interested in big things and happy in small ways.
Half the trouble in life is caused by pretending there isn't any.
Happiness is a work of art. Handle with care.
I believe I know the only cure, which is to make one’s center of life inside of one’s self, not selfishly or excludingly, but with a kind of unassailable serenity—to decorate one’s inner house so richly that one is content there, glad to welcome anyone who wants to come and stay, but happy all the same when one is inevitably alone.
Some things are best mended by a break.
The visible world is a daily miracle, for those who have eyes and ears.
Nothing is more perplexing to a man than the mental process of a woman who reasons her emotions.
To know when to be generous and when firm—that is wisdom.
If only we'd stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time.
The real loneliness is living among all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!
An education is like a crumbling building that needs constant upkeep with repairs and additions.
Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.
But I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits; the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes.
Life's just a perpetual piecing together of broken bits.
There are two ways to spread happiness; either be the light who shines it or be the mirror who reflects it.
When a man says he doesn't understand a woman it's because he won't take the trouble.
Silence may be as variously shaded as speech.
Life is always either; a tight -rope or a feather-bed . — Give me the tightrope.
There is one friend in the life of each of us who seems not a separate person, however dear and beloved, but an expansion, an interpretation, of one's self, the very meaning of one's soul.
True originality consists not in a new manner but in a new vision.
Each time you happen to me all over again.
One of the great things about travel is you find out how many good, kind people there are.
The other producer of old age is habit: the deathly process of doing the same thing in the same way at the same hour day after day, first from carelessness, then from inclination, at last from cowardice or inertia. Luckily the inconsequent life is not the only alternative; for caprice is as ruinous as routine. Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.
There are lots of ways of being miserable, but there's only one way of being comfortable, and that is to stop running round after happiness. If you make up your mind not to be happy there's no reason why you shouldn't have a fairly good time.
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