What a wee little part of a person's life are his acts and his words! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself. All day long, the mill of his brain is grinding, and his thoughts, not those of other things, are his history. These are his life, and they are not written. Everyday would make a whole book of 80,000 words — 365 books a year. Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of the man — the biography of the man himself cannot be written.

As our acts and our thoughts are, so will our lives be.

Life is words in action, literature is action in words.

You do not write your life with words, the monster said. You write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.

What is life? Thoughts and feelings arise, with or without our will, and we employ words to express them. We are born, and our birth is unremembered and our infancy remembered but in fragments. We live on, and in living we lose the apprehension of life. How vain is it to think that words can penetrate the mystery of our being. Rightly used they may make evident our ignorance of ourselves, and this is much.

You do not write your life with words. You write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.

You do not write your life with words, you write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.

The uttered part of a man's life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.

A human being lives out not only his personal life as an individual, but also, consciously or subconsciously, the lives of his epoch and his contemporaries

Life is mind, and deeds are its effects.

Words may show a man's wit, actions his meaning.

To say! To know how to say! To know how to exist via the written voice and the intellectual image! This is all that matters in life; the rest is men and women, imagined loves and factitious vanities, the wiles of our digestion and forgetfulness, people squirming — like worms when a rock is lifted — under the huge abstract boulder of the meaningless blue sky.

Your own acts tell the world who you are and what kind of society you think it should be.

You do not write your life with words...You write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.