What will people say-in these words lies the tyranny of the world, the whole destruction of our natural disposition, the oblique vision of our minds. These four words hold sway everywhere.

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.

Solitude has a healing consoler, friend, companion: it is work.

The silver-leaved birch retains in its old age a soft bark; there are some such men.

Imagination is the mightiest despot.

It is only when one is thoroughly true that there can be purity and freedom. Falsehood always punishes itself.

The vain being is the really solitary being.