There is a danger of developing a blanket distaste for modern life which could have its attractions but lack the all-important images to help us identify them.

You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.

Blessed with riches and possibilities far beyond anything imagined by ancestors who tilled the unpredictable soil of medieval Europe, modern populations have nonetheless shown a remarkable capacity to feel that neither who they are nor what they have is quite enough.

I'm fascinated by Comte's clear-eyed analysis of what was wrong with modern society, which is that you've got industrial capitalism on one side and romantic love on the other. Those, along with non-instrumental art, are supposed to get you through the day?

There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.

A good half of the art of living is resilience.