My grief and my smile begin in your face, my son.

All night I have suffered; all night my flesh has trembled to bring forth its gift. The sweat of death is on my forehead; but it is not death, it is life!

For me, religiosity is ... the constant remembrance of the presence of the soul.

Speech is our second possession, after the soul-and perhaps we have no other possession in this world.

What the soul is to the body, so is the artist to his people.

A crippled child Said, "How shall I dance?" Let your heart dance We said. Then the invalid said: "How shall I sing?" Let your heart sing We said Then spoke the poor dead thistle, "But I, how shall I dance?" Let your heart fly to the wind We said. Then God spoke from above "How shall I descend from the blue?" Come dance for us here in the light We said. All the valley is dancing Together under the sun, And the heart of him who joins us not Is turned to dust, to dust.

Now my belly is as noble as my heart.