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

Being alone when one's belief is firm, is not to be alone.

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

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

What is all our knowledge worth? We do not even know what the weather will be tomorrow.

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

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.