You largely constructed your depression. It wasn't given to you. Therefore, you can deconstruct it.

The art of love is largely the art of persistence.

The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president. You realize that you control your own destiny.

I had a great many sex and love cases where people were absolutely devastated when somebody with whom they were compulsively in love didn't love them back. They were killing themselves with anxiety and depression.

Acceptance is not love. You love a person because he or she has lovable traits, but you accept everybody just because they're alive and human.

There are three musts that hold us back: I must do well. You must treat me well. And the world must be easy.