How different each death is, and yet it leads us into the self-same country, that country which we inhabit so rarely, where we see the worthlessness of what we have long pursued and will so soon return to pursuing.

Most real relationships are involuntary.

Not to have been born is undoubtedly best, but sound sleep is second best.

Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self.

Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.

Being in love is an exhausting business.

Love is the last and secret name of all the virtues.