Every time we feel satisfied with what we have, we can be counted as rich, however little we may actually possess.
Good books put a finger on emotions that are deeply our own - but that we could never have described on our own.
I learnt to stop fantasising about the perfect job or the perfect relationship because that can actually be an excuse for not living.
To be loved by someone is to realize how much they share the same needs that lie at the heart of our own attraction to them. Albert Camus suggested that we fall in love with people because, from the outside, they look so whole, physically whole and emotionally 'together' - when subjectively we feel dispersed and confused. We would not love if there were no lack within us, but we are offended by the discovery of a similar lack in the other. Expecting to find the answer, we find only the duplicate of our own problem.
We are sensitized by the books we read. And the more books we read, and the deeper their lessons sink into us, the more pairs of glasses we have. And those glasses enable us to see things we would have otherwise missed.
To be shown love is to feel ourselves the object of concern: our presence is noted, our name is registered, our views are listened to, our failings are treated with indulgence and our needs are ministered to. And under such care, we flourish.
Most anger stems from feelings of weakness, sadness and fear: hard to remember when one is at the receiving end of its defiant roar.
Work is most fulfilling when you're at the comfortable, exciting edge of not quite knowing what you are doing.
Envy: a confused, tangled guide to one's own ambitions.
There may be significant things to learn about people by looking at what annoys them most.
People only get really interesting when they start to rattle the bars of their cages.
Feeling lost, crazy and desperate belongs to a good life as much as optimism, certainty and reason.
Most of us still caged within careers chosen for us by our not entirely worldly 18-22 year old selves.
What kills us isn't one big thing, but thousands of tiny obligations we can't turn down for fear of disappointing others.
We often lose our tempers not with those who are actually to blame; just with those who love us enough to forgive us our foul moods.
It seems that most of us could benefit from a brush with a near-fatal disaster to help us recognise the important things that we are too defeated or embittered to recognise from day to day.
Though it may feel otherwise, enjoying life is no more dangerous than apprehending it with continuous anxiety and gloom.
True love is a lack of desire to check one's smartphone in another's presence.
Happiness is impossible for longer than 15 minutes. We are the descendants of creatures who, above all else, worried.
The greatest difficulty of Travel is that one is forced to take oneself along.
Writing isn’t a career choice. It’s self-medication that over time precipitates the madness it was meant to ward off.
There is always the option of being emotionally lazy, that is, of quoting.
A good half of the art of living is resilience.
A notorious inability to express emotions makes human beings the only animals capable of suicide.
We keep a special place in our hearts for people who refuse to be impressed by us.
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