When I Was 8 Years Old, I Became Depressed. I Kept Asking Why I Was Born This Way [without Arms And Legs]. I Also Worried About My Future. At The Age Of 10, I Tried To Commit Suicide Because I Felt Like Giving Up. But When I Imagined My Loving Parents Crying At My Grave, I Decided To Stay.
Among the multitude of scholars and authors, we feel no hallowing presence; we are sensible of a knack and skill rather than of inspiration; they have a light, and know not whence it comes, and call it their own; their talent is some exaggerated faculty, some overgrown member, so that their strength is a disease.
The world still wants its poet-priest, a reconciler, who shall not trifle with Shakspeare the player, nor shall grope in graves with Swedenborg the mourner; but who shall see, speak, and act, with equal inspiration. For knowledge will brighten the sunshine; right is more beautiful than private affection; and love is compatible with universal wisdom.
Each human being has been granted a virtue: the capacity to choose. For he who does not use this virtue, it becomes a curse - and others will always choose for him.
"The Best Thing To Give To Your Enemy Is Forgiveness; to An Opponent, Tolerance; To A Friend, Your Heart; to Your Child, A Good Example; To A Father, deference; To Your Mother, Conduct That Will Make her Proud Of You; To Yourself, Respect; To All Others, Charity."