You know what happens to girls who loves lost boys? They become lost themselves.

Remember that at any given moment there are a thousand things you can love.

Life tells you to take the elevator, but love tells you to take the stairs.

Kindness connects to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen.

The older I get, the more I lose my ability to breathe.

A photograph it a souvenir of a memory. It is not a moment. It is the looking at the photograph that becomes the moment. Your own moment.

The words that matter always stay.

motif, n. You don’t love me as much as I love you. You don’t love me as much as I love you. You don’t love me as much as I love you.

It was a mistake," you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you.

You have to believe there are kisses and laughs and risks worth taking.

Things that matter are not easy. Feelings of happiness are easy. Happiness is not. Flirting is easy. Love is not. Saying you’re friends is easy. Being friends is not.

Words are powerful instruments. Handle them and your understanding level of new information will grow in a spectacular way.

For good nurture and education implant good constitutions.

How pathetically scanty my self-knowledge is compared with, say, my knowledge of my room. There is no such thing as observation of the inner world, as there is of the outer world.

There are some things that you can work on immediately.

There is a strength of quiet endurance as significant of courage as the most daring feats of prowess.

I firmly believe that mathematics does not exist outside of humans. It is something we, as a species, invent.

I still am very afraid to Google myself. There are some embarrassing roaming photos that I wish weren't on Google. But I intend to not Google myself.

I have learnt so much over my 40 years of business which would have been valuable to me when I was younger.

When they are preparing for war, those who rule by force speak most copiously about peace until they have completed the mobilization process.

It was a fine cry - loud and long - but it had no bottom and it had no top, just circles and circles of sorrow.