(El placer llamaba a mi puerta; el deseo le contesto en mi corazón; yo permanecí de rodillas, sin abrir.) - André Gide

Loving yourself isn’t vanity. It’s sanity.

[Marceline] sensed already what I was struggling to discover; and when I reproached her for believing too often in the virtues she herself had invented in the people we knew, she replied: ‘You’re never satisfied until you’ve made them reveal some vice. Don’t you realize that our own eyes magnify and exaggerate whatever they happen to see — that we make anyone become what we claim he is?’

I might have wished she were wrong, but I had to admit that to me each man’s worst instinct seemed the most sincere. Then, what was it I called sincerity?

I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't like what I saw.