Life is indeed difficult, partly because of the real difficulties we must overcome in order to survive, and partly because read more

Life is indeed difficult, partly because of the real difficulties we must overcome in order to survive, and partly because of our own innate desire to always do better, to overcome new challenges, to self-actualize. Happiness is experienced largely in striving towards a goal, not in having attained things, because our nature is always to want to go on to the next endeavor.

Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out alive.

Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out alive.

Our entire life - consists ultimately in accepting ourselves as we are.

Our entire life - consists ultimately in accepting ourselves as we are.

Sometimes I think of life as a process where everybody is discouraging and taking everybody else down a peg or read more

Sometimes I think of life as a process where everybody is discouraging and taking everybody else down a peg or two.rn

The truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more that you try to read more

The truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more that you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt.

Everytime you decide to settle for less, you deprive yourself of opportunities to soar and make your life a blessing read more

Everytime you decide to settle for less, you deprive yourself of opportunities to soar and make your life a blessing to others...

There is only one difference between a long life and a good dinner: that, in the dinner, the sweets come read more

There is only one difference between a long life and a good dinner: that, in the dinner, the sweets come last.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was read more

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Until you're broken, you don't know what you're made of.

Until you're broken, you don't know what you're made of.