A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with "a sort of greedy enjoyment," as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was "saturated with the bouquet of silence."

Your readiest desire is your path to joy... even if it destroys you.

Forgive everybody but yourself.

Don't try to convert the elderly person; circumvent him.

The newest books are those that never grow old.

Sacrifice is a form of bargaining.

Only one-fourth of the sorrow in each man's life is caused by outside uncontrollable elements, the rest is self-imposed by failing to analyze and act with calmness.