Everywhere man blames nature and fate, yet his fate is mostly but the echo of his character and passions, his mistakes and weaknesses.

All divine power is within you to accomplish great things.

Many writers make the mistake of making their readers appear like Lazarus, without any iota of care, throwing down books to readers to crunch as if they are dogs.

You will find the greatest happiness in letting yourself be.

Looking back, I wish that everyone could have that sort of moment: a moment where you realize that your hands are so impossibly small and this world is so impossibly big. And the two don__ seem to add up. Maybe recognizing the smallness of your own hands is just the very first step to changing anything at all.

Almost all of our sorrows spring out of our relations with other people. There is no more mistaken path to happiness than worldliness.