Most of our diversions do not so much delay death as accustom us to it.
The fault we admit to is seldom the fault we have, but it has a certain relationship to it, a somewhat similar shape, like that of a sleeve to an arm.
Nobody ever loved anybody like everybody wants to be loved.
Many of us are equal to life's emergencies who cannot bear its day-after-dayness.
Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones.
Anything you lose automatically doubles in value.