It is a mistake to speak of a bad choice in love, since as soon as a choice exists, it can only be bad. — Marcel Proust. French novelist, literary critic, and essayist (1871–1922)
Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge, we make promise only; pain we obey.
We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us.
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.