A pin has a head, but has no hair
Flowers preach to us if we will hear.
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.
Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.