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.

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

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

Why do you pray if you doubt you are heard?

As a stoic I must despise injury or, rather, I must not feel it, must not be affected by it so that it cannot violate the freedom of my soul.

All things are aggregations of atoms that dance & by their movement produce sound. When the rhythm of the dance changes, the sound it produces also changes... Each atom perpetually sings its song, and the sound at every moment creates dense subtle forms.

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