There’s too much love in the world. Sometimes I think that’s what heaven is---- a place where everybody’s happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever.

It doesnt always help us to love the world,but it does prevent us from hating the world.

Nothing ever fits the palm so perfectly, or feels so right, or inspires so much protective instinct as the hand of a child

Happiness is a myth. It was invented to make us buy new things.

The cloak of the past is cut from patches of feeling ,and sewn with rebus threads.Most of the time , the best we can do is wrap it around ourselves for comfort or drag it behind us as we struggle to go on .

Good soldiers are defined by what they can endure, not by what they can inflict.

The burden of happiness can only be relieved by the balm of suffering.