Ralph Waldo Emerson

The adventitious beauty of poetry may be felt in the greater delight with a verse given in a happy quotation than in the poem.

For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.

Truth is the summit of being justice is the application of it to affairs.

Art is a jealous mistress; and if a man have a genius for painting, poetry, music, architecture or philosophy, he makes a bad husband and an ill provider.

Skepticism is unbelief in cause and effect.

It was high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, ‘always do what you are afraid to do.’

Commerce is a game of skill which everyone cannot play and few can play well.

What could we accomplish if we knew we could not fail?

We all have our challenges, issues, things that we’re working through and insecurity is there because nobody is perfect no matter who you are. It’s that imperfection that makes you so dope.

One lesson we learn early, that in spite of seeming difference, men are all of one pattern. We readily assume this with our mates, and are disappointed and angry if we find that we are premature, and that their watches are slower than ours. In fact, the only sin which we never forgive in each other is difference of opinion.

A graceful and pleasing figure is a perpetual letter of recommendation.

You must avoid sloth, that wicked siren.

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.

We all really basically have a lot of magic … it’s only those of us that choose to accept it that really understand it.

Meditation is the dissolution of thoughts in Eternal awareness or Pure consciousness without objectification, knowing without thinking, merging finitude in infinity.

We are free to yield to truth.

That is the whole secret of successful fighting. Get your enemy at a disadvantage; and never, on any account, fight him on equal terms.

Nothing in life is more liberating than to fight for a cause larger than yourself, something that encompasses you but is not defined by your existence alone.

Life too near paralyses art.

See, I think you live on earth a certain number of times until you finish what it is that you were meant to do here. And then you go on. I don’t think I’ll be back here. I think I’m done.

Few women, I fear, have had such reason as I have to think the long sad years of youth were worth living for the sake of middle age.