Is it not true, then, that my life with all its limitation touches at many points the life of the World Beautiful? Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be, therein to be content.

Too often, I think, children are required to write before they have anything to say. Teach them to think and read and talk without self-repression, and they will write because they cannot help it.

I cannot explain it; but when difficulties arise, I am not perplexed or doubtful. I know how to meet them.

Certain periods in history suddenly lift humanity to an observation point where a clear light falls upon a world previously dark.

We all like stories that make us cry. It's so nice to feel sad when you've nothing in particular to feel sad about.

Every renaissance comes to the world with a cry, the cry of the human spirit to be free.

We imagine that we want to escape our selfish and commonplace existence, but we cling desperately to our chains.