Love loves to love love.

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Your mind will give back to you exactly what you put into it.

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Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.

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Fall if you will, but rise you must.

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Mistakes are the portals of discovery.

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Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.

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Absence, the highest form of presence.

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Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves.

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People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.

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But we are living in a sceptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented age: and sometimes I fear that this new generation, educated or hyper-educated as it is, will lack those qualities of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humour which belonged to an older day.

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