Writing a journal means that facing your ocean you are afraid to swim across it, so you attempt to drink it drop by drop.
... what is there over which the incomparable beauty of childhood would not triumph?
It is love, not faith, that moves mountains.
The smoke of glory is not worth the smoke of a pipe.
Whoever has loved once, knows all that life contains of sorrow and of joy.
I have no enthusiasm for nature which the slightest chill will not instantly destroy.