The truth is rarely pure and never simple.

To isolate mental processes from their adaptive context is to misunderstand them completely.

What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.

Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you hold the whole world.

I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use—silence, exile, and cunning.