The excesses of love soon pass, but its insufficiencies torment us forever.

The neurotic lies awake at night, composing letters to those he hates. He seldom thinks of dropping a line to those he loves.

Without enthusiasm, virtue functions not at all, and vice only poorly.

The neurotic believes that life has meaning, but that his life hasn't.

Neurotics would like to sleep all the time, and to be awakened only when there is good news.

Men enjoy being thought of as hunters, but are generally too lazy to hunt. Women, on the other hand, love to hunt, but would rather nobody knew it.

What you can't get out of, get into wholeheartedly.