He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.
It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.
No victor believes in chance.
Is man merely a mistake of God's? Or God merely a mistake of man?
No journey is too great, when one finds what one seeks.
The great end of art is to strike the imagination with the power of a soul that refuses to admit defeat even in the midst of a collapsing world.
Which is it? Is man only a blunder of God? Or is God only a blunder of man?
Enduring habits I hate.... Yes, at the very bottom of my soul I feel grateful to all my misery and bouts of sickness and everything about me that is imperfect, because this sort of thing leaves me with a hundred backdoors through which I can escape from enduring habits.
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