To love is to make of one's heart a swinging door.

He who fears is literally delivered to destruction.

To love is to make of one's heart a swinging door.

If a man knows precisely what he can do to you or what epithet he can hurl against you in order to make you lose your temper, your equilibrium, then he can always keep you under subjection.

At the core of life is a hard purposefulness, a determination to live.

And this is the strangest of all paradoxes of the human adventure; we live inside all experience, but we are permitted to bear witness only to the outside. Such is the riddle of life and the story of the passing of our days.

Love has no awareness of merit or demerit; it has no scale... Love loves; this is its nature.