To harbor hatred and animosity in the soul makes one irritable, gloomy, and prematurely old.

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

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

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.

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

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

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