Everybody who does anything at all does too much.

The moment my eyes fell on him, I was content.

I feel as if I could trust my happiness to carry me; as if it had grown out of me like wings.

Ah, good conversation - there's nothing like it, is there? The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.

The visible world is a daily miracle for those who have eyes and ears; and I still warm hands thankfully at the old fire, though every year it is fed with the dry wood of more old memories.

Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.

traditions that have lost their meaning are the hardest of all to destroy.