In some way, however, small and secret, each of us is a little mad… Everyone is lonely at the bottom and cries to be understood; but we can never certainly understand someone else, and each of us remains part stranger even to those who love us. It is the weak who are cruel; gentleness is expected only from the strong.
Those who do not know fear are not really brave, for courage is the capacity to confront what can be imagined. You can understand people better if you look at them– no matter how old or impressive they may be–as if they’re children. For most of us never mature; we simply grow taller.
Happiness comes only when we push ones brains and hearts to the farthest reaches of which we are capable. The purpose of life is to matter– to count, to stand for something, to have it make some difference that we lived at all.