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.

To the one who knows how to look and feel, every moment of this free wandering life is an enchantment.

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.

There is nothing truly serious in life. All words sound hollow when one listens to them carefully.

One must be very strong, or very stupid, or completely exhausted to face life with indifference.

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.

Suffering raises up those souls that are truly great; it is only small souls that are made mean-spirited by it.