Love yourself enough to the extent that no other persons' love can compare to the love you have for yourself.

Never in his life had occasion to ask himself, "Why are things the way they are?" Why should he bother, when the way they were was always perfect? Why are things the way they are? The question to which there is no answer, and up till then he was so blessed he didn't even know the question existed.

Sometimes even the ones you want to believe turn out to be liars.

Let heaven exist, though my place be in hell.

Written By Jorge Luis Borges

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