Our life is frittered away by detail Simplify, simplify. ” Or, as Plato wrote, “In order to seek one’s own direction, one must simplify the mechanics of ordinary, everyday life.
All places shall be hell that are not heaven.
It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate.
Nature that framed us of four elements, Warring within our breasts for regiment, Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds: Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Wills us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then stab, when occasion serves.
All live to die, and rise to fall.
Above our life we love a steadfast friend.
To create art means to be crazy alone forever.
Bitterness is like a weed. Remember how hard it always was to pull out thistles once they root? Remember how deep those roots grow, and how if you just snapped off the end of it, the plant would grow right back? You have to dig down deep inside. Let God search your heart. Let Him show you what's there and help you root out all that bitterness. Then you can pray for forgiveness.
For Dostoevsky, Fourier is one of the industrious ant-hill engineers, busy, protected by the delusion that his goal, the will-ordered society, is the summation of all his desires.
Happiness that depends mainly on physical pleasure is unstable; one day it's there, the next day it may not be.