Who knows the flower best? - the one who reads about it in a book, or the one who finds it wild on the mountainside?

The unsuspected is the daily fare of the traveler in Thibet.

Neglecting small things under the pretext of wanting to accomplish large ones is the excuse of a coward.

Landscapes have a language of their own, expressing the soul of the things, lofty or humble, which constitute them, from the mighty peaks to the smallest of the tiny flowers hidden in the meadow's grass.

Guard against idols -- yes, guard against all idols, of which surely the greatest is oneself.

Very few of us are capable of being Free Thinkers, needing neither to adore nor to insult God, the insult often being an act of faith more profound than adoration.

Nature has a language of its own, or maybe those who have lived long in solitude read in it their own unconscious inner feelings and mysterious foreknowledge.