When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.
Hatred is the anger of the weak.
Intelligence is nothing without delight.
In solitude especialy do we begin to appreciate the advantage of living with someone who can think.
We are the total of our longings.
You may regret your silence once, but you will regret your words often.
Maybe the gift of any great person is the power to converse with our own hearts.
The only limits are those of vision.