Good fiction doesn't come out of the basic conflict of good versus bad. Instead, it comes out of a conflict between good and good.

The magnanimity and sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: she is so kindhearted that she can't look at blood, but enjoys eating the calf served up with sauce.

A good player who loses at chess is genuinely convinced hat he has lost because of a mistake, and he looks for this mistake in the beginning of his game, but forgets that there were also mistakes at ever step in the course of the game, that none of his moves was perfect. The mistake he pays attention to is conspicuous only because his opponent took advantage of it.

Joy can only be real if people look upon their life as a service and have a definite object in life outside themselves and their personal happiness.

I have now understood that though it seems to men that they live by care for themselves, in truth it is love alone by which they live. He who has love, is in God, and God is in him, for God is love.

There are as many loves as there are hearts.

Not all of life's roads are set fast, for a man may do this or a man may do that and not even the gods know the mind of a man.