The only alternative seems to be doing nothing…and doing nothing, I find, rarely accomplishes anything
The stranger who receives the rare gift of human kindness holds its value in his heart forever.
Goodness comes out of people who bask in the sun, as it does out of a sweet apple roasted before the fire.
The excellence of a gift lies in its appropriateness rather than in its value
The love of dirt is among the earliest of passions, as it is the latest. Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure. Fondness for the ground comes back to a man after he has run the round of pleasure and business, eaten dirt, and sown wild oats, drifted about the world, and taken the wind of all its moods. The love of digging in the ground (or of looking on while he pays another to dig) is as sure to come back to him, as he is sure, at last, to go under the ground, and stay there.
Perhaps nobody ever accomplishes all that he feels lies in him to do; but nearly every one who tries his power touches the walls of his being.
No man but feels more of a man in the world if he have a bit of ground that he can call his own. However small it is on the surface, it is four thousand miles deep; and that is a very handsome property.
A modest little person, with much to be modest about.
It is the Land of Truth (enchanted name!), surrounded by a wide and stormy ocean, the true home of illusion, where many a fog bank and ice, that soon melts away, tempt us to believe in new lands, while constantly deceiving the adventurous mariner with vain hopes, and involving him in adventures which he can never leave, yet never bring to an end.
Truth has to be credible or it makes as much trouble as any lie!
I'm giving [my analyst] one more year--then I'm going to Lourdes.