Do you love me enough that I may be weak with you? Everyone loves strength, but do you love me for my weakness? That is the real test.
There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.
One of the better guarantors of ending up in a good relationship: an advanced capacity to be alone.
Don’t despair: despair suggests you are in total control and know what is coming. You don’t – surrender to events with hope.
Intimacy is the capacity to be rather weird with someone – and finding that that’s ok with them.
The only way to be happy is to realise how much depends on how you look at things.
A good half of the art of living is resilience.
The only people we can think of as normal are those we don’t yet know very well.
Most of us still caged within careers chosen for us by our not entirely worldly 18-22 year old selves.
The more closely we analyze what we consider ‘sexy,’ the more clearly we will understand that eroticism is the feeling of excitement we experience at finding another human being who shares our values and our sense of the meaning of existence.
Being content is perhaps no less easy than playing the violin well: and requires no less practice.
Every time we feel satisfied with what we have, we can be counted as rich, however little we may actually possess.
Envy: a confused, tangled guide to one’s own ambitions.
As adults, we try to develop the character traits that would have rescued our parents.
The arrogance that says analysing the relationship between reasons and causes is more important than writing a philosophy of shyness or sadness or friendship drives me nuts. I can’t accept that.
The difference between hope and despair is a different way of telling stories from the same facts.
The best cure for one’s bad tendencies is to see them in action in another person.
People only get really interesting when they start to rattle the bars of their cages.
We are all more intelligent than we are capable, and awareness of the insanity of love has never saved anyone from the disease.
The very act of drawing an object, however badly, swiftly takes the drawer from a woolly sense of what the object looks like to a precise awareness of its component parts and particularities.