Nobody ever loved anybody like everybody wants to be loved.
Anything you lose automatically doubles in value.
The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive - perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine.
Few of us could bear to have ourselves for neighbors.
Love looks forward, hate looks back, anxiety has eyes all over its head.
The neurotic usually obeys his own Golden Rule: Hate thy neighbor as thyself.