The first duty of a leader is to make himself be loved without courting love. To be loved without 'playing up' to anyone - even to himself.
Sometimes the cure for restlessness is rest.
Facts are the enemy of truth.
There are no wise few. Every aristocracy that has ever existed has behaved, in all essential points, exactly like a small mob.
The roses, the lovely notes, the dining and dancing are all welcome and splendid. But when the Godiva is gone, the gift of real love is having someone who'll go the distance with you. Someone who, when the wedding day limo breaks down, is willing to share a seat on the bus.
Love is that splendid triggering of human vitality... the supreme activity which nature affords anyone for going out of himself toward someone else.
I've gone into hundreds of fortune-teller's parlors, and have been told thousands of things, but nobody ever told me I was a policewoman getting ready to arrest her.