The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.

You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.

I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are naive. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons.

When you give yourself, you receive more than you give.

What was my body to me? A kind of flunkey in my service. Let but my anger wax hot, my love grow exalted, my hatred collect in me, and that boasted solidarity between me and my body was gone.

A child is not frightened at the thought of being patiently transmuted into an old man.

Peace is present when things form part of a whole greater than their sum, as the diverse minerals in the ground collect to become the tree.