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.

Work cannot convey the almost voluptuous sweetness of the feelings experienced ... in solitude.

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.

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.

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

The wise expect nothing, hope for nothing, thus avoiding all disappointment and anxiety.

Why do you pray if you doubt you are heard?