Justice lacking passion fails, betrays.
I feel self-repressed again. The old fall disease. Where is my willpower? The idea of a life gets in the way of my life. . . I dream too much, work too little.
Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.
That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously.
I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give.
Happy! That is indefinable as far as states of being go.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter - - - for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. . . . Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.
Those who march with us will certainly face abuse, misunderstanding, bitter animosity, and possibly the ferocity of struggle and of danger. In return, we can only offer to them the deep belief that they are fighting that a great land may live.
Nothing is intrinsically valuable; the value of everything is attributed to it, assigned to it from outside the thing itself, by people.
In every tragedy, an element of comedy is preserved. Comedy is just tragedy reversed.
It's a moment that I'm after, a fleeting moment, but not a frozen moment.