How strangely do we diminish a thing as soon as we try to express it in words.

To be happy is only to have freed one's soul from the unrest of unhappiness.

We can never judge a soul above the high water mark of our own.

In any event, a truth that disheartens, because it is true, is still of far more value than the most stimulating of falsehoods.

It is the evil that lies in ourselves that is ever least tolerant of the evil that dwells within others.

Happiness will never be any greater than the idea we have of it.

We are never the same with others as when we are alone. We are different, even when we are in the dark with them.