We hear the rain fall, but not the snow. Bitter grief is loud, calm grief is silent.

Discontent is the source of all trouble,but also of all progress, in individuals and nations.

Some men, like modern shops, hang everything in their show windows; when one goes inside, nothing is to be found.

The vain being is the really solitary being.

In Nature there is no dirt, everything is in the right condition; the swamp and the worm, as well as the grass and the bird,-all is there for itself.

Gratitude is a soil on which joy thrives.

Truly, one gets easier accustomed to a silken bed than to a sack of leaves.