I’m not afraid of my fear. It’s folly, the Christian argument that you should live always in view of your death. The only way to live is to forget th… - William Somerset Maugham

I know that I shall die struggling for breath, and I know that I shall be horribly afraid. I know that I shall not be able to keep myself from regretting bitterly the life that has brought me to such a pass; but I disown that regret. I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.

I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.

She alone had been blind to his merit. Why? Because he loved her and she did not love him. What was it in the human heart that made you despise a man because he loved you?

Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit.

But Philip was impatient with himself; he called to mind his idea of the pattern of life: the unhappiness he had suffered was no more than part of a decoration which was elaborate and beautiful; he told himself strenuously that he must accept with gaiety everything, dreariness and excitement, pleasure and pain, because it added to the richness of the design.