No human being can really understand another, and no one can

“No human being can really understand another, and no one can arrange another’s happiness.” Thus spoke Graham Greene, the master of moral solitude, whose novels explored the shadowed depths of the human heart. In this statement, he utters a truth both sorrowful and sacred — that the soul is a world unto itself, unseen and ungoverned, and that all attempts to fully grasp or command another’s inner life are bound to fall short. His words do not deny love, compassion, or friendship, but remind us that every soul walks through a private landscape of thought and pain that no other can entirely traverse.

The meaning of this saying lies in the recognition of our shared yet separate humanity. Each person carries a secret world — memories, fears, desires, and wounds that even the closest companion cannot truly enter. Understanding, though noble, can never be complete; it is always filtered through the veil of our own experience. Likewise, happiness cannot be engineered from the outside. It is not a gift to be bestowed by others, but a harmony to be discovered within. Greene warns against the illusion that we can “arrange” the joy of those we love — for joy, like understanding, must grow from the depths of one’s own soul.

The origin of this truth can be traced through Greene’s own life and art. A man of deep emotion and restless conscience, he wandered through faith and doubt, war and peace, love and loneliness. His characters — priests, spies, lovers, sinners — all seek connection, yet find themselves isolated within their own moral storms. From these experiences arose his belief that human understanding is always imperfect, and that compassion must be tempered by humility. For even when we think we know another completely, there remains within them a secret chamber, locked against all others — a silence where only they and God may dwell.

History, too, bears witness to this mystery of isolation within togetherness. Consider the story of Vincent van Gogh, whose life was marked by both genius and torment. His brother Theo loved him deeply, supporting him through years of hardship. Yet even Theo, despite his devotion, could not lift Vincent’s despair, could not “arrange” his happiness. The painter’s inner world, filled with visions of color and agony, was one that no other could fully understand. And yet, from that solitude came art that spoke to millions. Thus, Greene’s words reveal a paradox: though we can never fully enter another’s heart, we can still touch it — imperfectly, beautifully — through empathy, not control.

This truth is both humbling and liberating. It teaches us to approach others not as puzzles to be solved, but as sacred mysteries to be honored. To love someone is not to understand them completely, but to stand beside them despite the gulf between souls. It is to offer presence rather than possession, to listen without trying to fix, to care without seeking to command. The desire to arrange another’s happiness often springs from love, but it can become a form of tyranny if it forgets that each person must find their own way to joy.

To live by this wisdom, one must practice both compassion and restraint. Seek to understand, but accept that some part of every heart will remain beyond reach. Offer kindness freely, but do not measure its worth by whether it makes others happy — for their happiness, like yours, is a journey they alone can walk. When you love, do not try to remake another in your image, nor to shield them from the storms that shape them. Instead, love as the sun loves the earth: shining, constant, asking nothing in return.

The lesson is this: every soul is its own universe, and the greatest grace we can offer one another is the freedom to be. You cannot live another’s life, nor bear their pain, nor dictate their joy. But you can walk beside them, offering light when the path grows dark. That is enough. For in respecting the solitude of others, we also honor the divine solitude within ourselves. And in that mutual reverence — that balance of closeness and distance — lies the purest form of love and the truest understanding we can ever hope to find.