Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.

No great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness.

There should be an honest attempt at the reconciliation of differences before resorting to combat.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

If we weren’t all crazy, we’d just go insane.

Hatred is self-punishment.

Discretion of speech is more than eloquence, and to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal is more than to speak in good words, or in good order.

Paranoia is just another word for ignorance.

I calculate that I took 20,000 punches, but I earned millions and kept a lot of it. I may talk slow, but my mind is OK.

Songwriting is my way of channeling my feelings and my thoughts. Not just mine, but the things I see, the people I care about. My head would explode if I didn’t get some of that stuff out.

And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

I actually started off majoring in computer science, but I knew right away I wasn’t going to stay with it. It was because I had this one professor who was the loneliest, saddest man I’ve ever known. He was a programmer, and I knew that I didn’t want to do whatever he did. So after that, I switched to Communications.

I do suffer from depression, I suppose. Which isn’t that unusual. You know, a lot of people do.

I hope that Facebook and other Internet technologies were able to help people, just like we hope that we help them communicate and organize and do whatever they want to every single day, but I don’t pretend that if Facebook didn’t exist, that this wouldn’t even be possible. Of course, it would have.

I had a lovers quarrel with the world.

If you can’t move and talk to people that you see, it’s not really my scene.

To me, it’s OK to have differences. But we don’t have to be mad about it. You know? And I think that’s where sometimes we get so passionate that we – you know, it turns into anger.

I never did give anybody hell. I just told the truth and they thought it was hell.

A man is more frank and sincere with his emotions than a woman. We girls, I’m afraid, have a tendency to hide our feelings.

No, I’m not anguished and tormented.

Ten people who speak make more noise than ten thousand who are silent.

Be a force of love as often as you can and turn away negative thoughts whenever you feel them surface.

If we examine our thoughts, we shall find them always occupied with the past and the future.

The second time around, I’ll understand that, as a husband, my wife doesn’t care about my opinions. I just need to tell her the things that will continue to help me stack the brownie points.

I’m really bad with answering questions. Usually, I don’t even answer them. I try to find inspiration inside of the question. I think, and I jump from one beam of inspiration or energy to the next, as opposed to explaining the energy.

Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears.

But by reading them again and again finally I was able to grasp the essential part. What emotion, enthusiasm, enlightenment and confidence they communicated to me! I wept for joy.

Understanding is a two-way street.

Our fatigue is often caused not by work, but by worry, frustration and resentment.

There is no such thing as a pure introvert or extrovert. Such a person would be in the lunatic asylum.

There is no such thing as paranoia. Your worst fears can come true at any moment.

Yes, I, well, when I write, as often as I can, I try to write as if I’m talking to people. It doesn’t always work, and one shouldn’t always try it, but I try and write as if I am talking, and trying to engage the reader in conversation.

Crankiness is at the essence of all comedy. My wife and I were discussing the different types of cranky. There’s entertaining cranky, annoying cranky, angry cranky.

I will listen to anyone’s convictions, but pray keep your doubts to yourself.

The question isn’t, ‚What do we want to know about people?‘, It’s, ‚What do people want to tell about themselves?‘

I grew up cursing a lot. It felt natural. My parents told me to stop.

When I was a teenager, I thought how great it would be if only I could write novels in English. I had the feeling that I would be able to express my emotions so much more directly than if I wrote in Japanese.

If a man be gloomy let him keep to himself. No one has the right to go croaking about society, or what is worse, looking as if he stifled grief.

We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out.

Feelings are more dangerous than ideas, because they aren’t susceptible to rational evaluation. They grow quietly, spreading underground, and erupt suddenly, all over the place.

If you’re a politician, you might want to learn the Buddhist way of negotiation. Restoring communication and bringing back reconciliation is clear and concrete in Buddhism.

There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love.

When I talk to kids, I’m really listening. When I do that, we have a little bit of a bigger connection than me being Kendrick Lamar and you being a student. It’s almost like we’re friends. Because a friend listens.

I’m not a big fan of psychoanalysis: I think if you have mental problems what you need are good pills. But I do think that if you have thinks that bother you, things that are unresolved, the more that you talk about them, write about them, the less serious they become.

The right word may be effective, but no word was ever as effective as a rightly timed pause.

My mother always taught us that if people don’t agree with you, the important thing is to listen to them. But if you’ve listened to them carefully and you still think that you’re right, then you must have the courage of your convictions.

If I feel anxious every time someone is staring at me, well, I can’t control what they stare at, but my reaction is, I’m just not going to go outside the house. I’m going to stay in and chill. And when I do go out, I understand what comes along with that.

I never gave anybody hell! I just told the truth and they thought it was hell.

Of course you can’t ‚trust‘ what people tell you on the web anymore than you can ‚trust‘ what people tell you on megaphones, postcards or in restaurants. Working out the social politics of who you can trust and why is, quite literally, what a very large part of our brain has evolved to do.

I boldly assert, in fact I think I know, that a lot of friendships and connections absolutely depend upon a sort of shared language, or slang. Not necessarily designed to exclude others, this can establish a certain comity and, even after a long absence, re-establish it in a second.

Games lubricate the body and the mind.

If you want to talk about something new, you have to make up a new kind of language.

I’m not afraid to write my feelings in songs.

One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the known coming to an end.

For many people who are so lost in their minds, so much involved in their thought processes, the only moments they have when they are not trapped in that is when they are relating to their animal, their pet.

Many parents and teachers have become irritated to the point of distraction at the way the weed-style growth of ‚like‘ has spread through the idiom of the young. And it’s true that in some cases the term has become simultaneously a crutch and a tic, driving out the rest of the vocabulary as candy expels vegetables.

All slang is metaphor, and all metaphor is poetry.

If you want a love message to be heard, it has got to be sent out. To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it.

I’m guarded; I don’t talk much.

A son can bear with equanimity the loss of his father, but the loss of his inheritance may drive him to despair.

Talk well of the absent whenever you have the opportunity.