I'm frightened. Of us.

I am more afraid of King Alcohol than of all the bullets of the enemy.

Let us beware in ourselves, my beloved,

I am more afraid of deserving criticism than of receiving it. I stand in awe of my own opinion. The secret demerits of which we alone, perhaps, are conscious, are often more difficult to bear than those which have been publicly censured in us, and thus in some degree atoned for.

Our actual enemy is not any force exterior to ourselves, but our own crying weaknesses, our cowardice, our selfishness, our hypocrisy, our purblind sentimentalism.

We’ve been so afraid; so hell bent on destroying enemies; both foreign and domestic, we’ve hurt ourselves and our democracy. Time to wake up.

In fact, I was shit-scared that we were going to make fools of ourselves.

Very often we are our own worst enemy as we foolishly build stumbling blocks on the path that leads to success and happiness.

The fault… is not in the stars, but in ourselves.

Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.

I know that we made mistakes.

The enemy of the moment is not as important as our own inner weakness. If this is not mended we are already defeated, though no foreign conqueror stands within our walls.

It is more profitable to be mindful of our own faults than of those of our age.

Nostalgia, more than anything, gives us the shudder of our own imperfection.