All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
As it is with the love of the body, so with the friendship of the mind, the full is only reached by admittance to the most retired places.
Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.
The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
Nước mắt của thế gian này luôn bất biến. Với mỗi người bắt đầu khóc, ở nơi nào đó khác một người ngừng rơi lệ. Với tiếng cười cũng vậy.
