There is no such thing as bad people. We’re all just people who sometimes do bad things.[repeated often in the rest of the book]
It’s wrong to hurt even bad people. Because they don’t know any better, and because bad people sometimes become good.
Nothing in my life has ever felt so good yet hurt so achingly bad.
No matter how bad things get you got to go on living, even if it kills you.
When things get really bad, just raise your glass and stamp your feet and do a little jig. That’s about all you can do.
To what is good I open the doors of my being, and jealously shut them against what is bad. Such is the force of this beautiful and wilful conviction, it carries itself in the face of all opposition. I am never discouraged by absence of good. I never can be argued into hopelessness.
Things get bad for all of us, almost continually, and what we do under the constant stress reveals who/what we are.
There was nothing on earth so good that it had not something nasty about its first origin.[На земле нет ничего хорошего, что в своём первоисточнике не имело бы гадости.]
There never was a good War, or a bad Peace.
There are bad people everywhere, but among the bad there are some good one.[Везде есть люди дурные, а между дурными и хорошие.]
The Christian resolution to find the world ugly and bad has made the world ugly and bad.[Der christliche Entschluss, die Welt hässlich und schlecht zu finden, hat die Welt hässlich und schlecht gemacht.]
The bad points of others show out so strongly against the good that they usually strike our eyes before they wound us.[Le mal, chez autrui, tranche si vigoureusement sur le bien, qu’il nous frappe presque toujours la vue avant de nous blesser.]
