We Know That The Wildest And Most

Through Pride We Are Ever Deceiving Ourselves. But Deep Down Below The Surface Of The Average Conscience A Still, Small Voice Says To Us, Something Is Out Of Tune.

Commendation Heals; Condemnation Destroys.

I Am Astonished, Disappointed, Pleased With Myself. I Am Distressed, Depressed, Rapturous. I Am All These Things At Once, And Cannot Add Up The Sum. I Am Incapable Of Determining Ultimate Worth Or Worthlessness; I Have No Judgment About Myself And My Life. There Is Nothing I Am Quite Sure About. I Have No Definite Convictions - Not About Anything, Really. I Know Only That I Was Born And Exist, And It Seems To Me That I Have Been Carried Along. I Exist On The Foundation Or Something I Do Not Know.

People Learn From Who We Are, Rather Than What We Say, And To Believe Otherwise Is A Disease Of The Mind.

That Which Compels Us To Create A Substitute For Ourselves Is Not The External Lack Of Objects, But Our Incapacity To Lovingly Include A Thing Outside Of Ourselves