The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
There is an evil tendency underlying all our technology - the tendency to do what is reasonable even when it isn't any good.
When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.
We are able to laugh when we achieve detachment, if only for a moment.
I am not young enough to know everything.
Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't.
History is more or less bunk.