We’re Miserable Because We Think That We

Happiness Is The Consequence Of Personal Effort. You Must Fight For It, Strive For It, And Insist Upon It.

I Won The Argument Against The Knife That Night, But Barely. I Had Some Other Good Ideas Around That Time--about How Jumping Off A Building Or Blowing My Brains Out With A Gun Might Stop The Suffering. But Something About Spending A Night With A Knife In My Hand Did It. The Next Morning I Called My Friend Susan As The Sun Came Up, Begged Her To Help Me. I Don't Think A Woman In The Whole History Of My Family Had Ever Done That Before, Had Ever Sat In The Middle Of The Road Like That And Said, In The Middle Of Her Life, "i Cannot Walk Another Step Further--somebody Has To Help Me.

There Is No Choice More Intensely Personal, After All, Than Whom You Choose To Marry; That Choice Tells Us, To A Large Extent, Who You Are.

Someday You're Gonna Look Back On This Moment Of Your Life As Such A Sweet Time Of Grieving. You'll See That You Were In Mourning And Your Heart Was Broken, But Your Life Was Changing.

You Have To Work Ceaselessly On Your End To Digest And Imbibe Your Opportunities Or, I Have Come To Believe, They Will Gradually Slip Away And Knock On Someone Else's More Receptive Door.