Love means to love that which is unloveable. Otherwise it is no virtue at all.

It never ceases to amaze me: We all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.

Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.

What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.

As the traveler who has once been from home is wiser than he who has never left his own doorstep, so a knowledge of one other culture should sharpen our ability to scrutinize more steadily, to appreciate more lovingly, our own.

There is no disguise which can for long conceal love where it exists or simulate it where it does not.

We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.

The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.

Age in a virtuous person, of either sex, carries in it an authority which makes it preferable to all the pleasures of youth.

There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Use both and overlook neither.

Protecting your virtue you have to learn to say no.

The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries.

The universe does not favor the greedy, dishonest and evil people, even when it seems so. It helps honest, generous and virtuous people.

We ought not to let either our joy at their faults or our grief at their success be idle, but in either case we ought to reflect, how we may become better than them by avoiding their errors, and by imitating their virtues not come short of them.

Virtue is a state of war, and to live in it we have always to combat with ourselves.