Everyone chases after happiness, not noticing that happiness is right at their heels.
What a miserable thing life is: you’re living in clover, only the clover isn’t good enough.
Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.
Courage is poorly housed that dwells in numbers; the lion never counts the herd that are about him, nor weighs how many flocks he has to scatter.
To live means to finesse the processes to which one is subjugated.
Beauty is the lover’s gift.