We sit in the mud... and reach for the stars.

We sit in the mud... and reach for the stars.

Sternly, remorselessly, fate guides each of us; only at the beginning, when we're absorbed in details, in all sorts of nonsense, in ourselves, are we unaware of its harsh hand.

a person who gets angry at his own illness is sure to overcome it

Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

I was afraid of looking into my heart...afraid of thinking seriously about anything...I did not want to know whether I was loved, and I did not want to admit to myself that I was not loved.

To desire and expect nothing for oneself and to have profound sympathy for others is genuine holiness.