The hardest-learned lesson: that people have only their kind of love to give, not our kind.

Others settle for small rewards; the neurotic must always go for broke.

What a shame that allowances have to stop with the teens: both those that are paid to us and those that are made for us.

The neurotic feels as though trapped in a gas-filled room where at any moment someone, probably himself, will strike a match.

Once you become self-conscious, there is no end to it; once you start to doubt, there is no room for anything else.

Beauty often fades, but seldom so swiftly as the joy it gives us.

How tired God must be of guilt and loneliness, for that is all we ever bring to Him.