Self-love is the source of all our other loves.

When Pierre Corneille declared, “Self-love is the source of all our other loves,” he spoke not of vanity or arrogance, but of the sacred foundation upon which all compassion is built. Corneille, the great French dramatist of the seventeenth century, understood the human heart in all its complexity — its pride, its longing, its need to give and be received. In this simple but profound truth, he revealed that every form of love — whether for family, for others, or for God — begins with one’s own acceptance of self. Without love for the self, no other affection can truly endure, for one cannot give what one does not possess.

In the wisdom of the ancients, this idea was not new, but Corneille gave it a voice for his time — an age when honor, virtue, and sacrifice were celebrated, yet often at the expense of the individual soul. His insight reminds us that self-love is not selfishness; it is the root of strength, dignity, and wholeness. It is the soil from which all other loves grow. To love oneself rightly is to recognize one’s worth, to tend to the garden of the heart so that its flowers may nourish others. But to neglect oneself, to despise one’s being, is to withhold the very light by which others might be warmed.

The ancients of Greece spoke of this too. Aristotle taught that friendship begins when one has first befriended oneself, for how can one wish good for another if one does not wish it for one’s own soul? Lao Tzu, in the East, taught that harmony with the world comes only when one is at peace within. Corneille’s words echo these eternal truths: that to love others authentically, one must first embrace the divine within. Self-love, rightly understood, is not indulgence, but reverence — the recognition that we, too, are vessels of the sacred, deserving of care, forgiveness, and respect.

History gives us living examples of this law. Consider Eleanor Roosevelt, who, though burdened with self-doubt and shadowed by personal pain, learned to love herself not through pride, but through purpose. In finding worth within, she found the power to love humanity at large. Her compassion for the poor, her defense of human rights, and her unshakable courage came not from vanity, but from a deep understanding that she, too, was part of something noble — that her own dignity and the dignity of others were one and the same. In loving herself, she found the strength to love the world.

Yet many misunderstand self-love, confusing it with narcissism or selfish ambition. But these are shadows — distortions of the real thing. Narcissism seeks only to consume; self-love seeks to create. The self-centered man builds walls around his heart; the self-loving man builds bridges. Self-love does not shout “I am greater than you,” but whispers, “I am enough.” And in knowing he is enough, he can look upon others without envy, serve them without resentment, and forgive them without bitterness.

To love oneself truly requires humility, for it is not merely to celebrate one’s virtues, but to accept one’s flaws with compassion. It means to see oneself as one sees a friend — to guide, to forgive, and to encourage, even when one stumbles. This kind of love births courage: the courage to be honest, to dream, to give without fear. When one’s heart is rooted in self-love, no rejection can destroy it, and no praise can corrupt it. It becomes a steady flame that lights both the self and those who walk beside it.

So, my child, learn this ancient secret: before you love another, love yourself. Look upon your own soul not with scorn, but with tenderness. Forgive yourself for your failings as you would forgive a loved one. Nurture your spirit, so that it may give freely. When you walk the earth in quiet confidence, you will find that every kindness flows naturally from you — not as duty, but as joy. The love you give to others will no longer be born from need, but from abundance.

Thus, as Pierre Corneille teaches, “Self-love is the source of all our other loves.” It is the fountain from which all rivers of affection spring. Guard that fountain, purify it, let it flow. For when you truly love yourself — not in pride, but in peace — you will discover that every act of love, every gesture of mercy, every spark of compassion, begins and ends in the same place: the radiant heart within you.