Eleanor Roosevelt

In all our contacts it is probably the sense of being really needed and wanted which gives us the greatest satisfaction and creates the most lasting bond.

Love can often be misguided and do as much harm as good, but respect can do only good. It assumes that the other person’s stature is as large as one’s own, his rights as reasonable, his needs as important.

No matter how plain a woman may be, if truth and honesty are written across her face, she will be beautiful.

I think that somehow, we learn who we really are and then live with that decision.

If you lose money you lose much, If you lose friends you lose more, If you lose faith you lose all.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Something made greater by ourselves and in turn that makes us greater.

The Mona Lisa, the Mona Lisa….Leonardo had eye trouble….Art couldn’t explain it….But now we’re safe, since science can explain it. Maybe Milton wrote Paradise Lost because he was blind? And Beethoven wrote the Ninth Symphony because he was deaf…

No mistake is more common and more fatuous than appealing to logic in cases which are beyond her jurisdiction.

It is possible to have a strong self-love without any self-satisfaction, rather with a self-discontent which is the more intense because one’s own little core of egoistic sensibility is a supreme care.

When you can’t make them see the light, make them feel the heat.

Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried, or childless men.

If you find it in your heart to care for somebody else, you will have succeeded.

Give me insight into today and you may have the antique and future worlds.

A toddling little girl is a center of common feeling which makes the most dissimilar people understand each other.

It’s them as take advantage that get advantage I this world.

We gain the strength of the temptation we resist.

No thought, no reflection, no analysis, no cultivation, no intention; let it settle itself.

No compliment can be eloquent, except as an expression of indifference.

When it comes to the story of my heart, I am the villain, locking it away; denying its right be free. The chains are tight, restricting its growth; long enough to see through the window of opportunity, but the only escape it has, is via the pen. Why do I deny myself the opportunities? I know it comes from a place of protection, but also of fear. I think my heart has grown a resentment because of this betrayal, and has decided, enough is enough.

I can live for two months on a good compliment.