It is one of those quirks of human nature that you love the person whom you treat well, not necessarily the person who treats you well.

Most people ask of their friends that they understand them, but, on balance, I think I prefer a friend who understands himself.

I saw one of the absolute truths of this world: each person is worrying about himself; no one is worrying about you. He or she is worrying about whether you like him, not whether he likes you. He is worrying about whether he looks prepossessing, not whether you are dressed correctly. He is worrying about whether he appears poised, not whether you are. He is worrying about whether you think well of him, not whether he thinks well of you. The way to be yourself ... is to forget yourself.

To live with the terrible truths about ourselves is the only way of not living them out. A need denied has infinitely more power than a need accepted.

We can win the struggle to avoid responsibility for our personal lives, but if we do, what we lose is our lives.

The more deeply the path is etched, the more it is used, and the more it is used, the more deeply it etched.

The cruelest affront is treating the person as exactly the person he is. We all long to be understood, but not for what we are. We long to be understood for what we might have been had all been for the best in the best of all possible worlds and, at the same time, to be forgiven for what we are.