Most of us are experts at solving other people's problems, but we generally solve them in terms of our own and the advice we give is seldom for other people but for ourselves.

There is a stage with people we love when we are no longer separate from them, but so close in sympathy that we live through them as directly as through ourselves. ... we push back our hair because theirs is in their eyes.

One of the many possible divisions of human beings is into those who make and those who use.

happiness makes us older, less romantic, less in need of dreams. Discontent, not happiness, is the food of youth and poetry.

We love those we are happy with. We do. For how else can we know we love them, or how else define loving?

If you would be happy all your life, plant a garden.

Understanding, above all, is a gift we should never offer uninvited.