The whole world is a series of miracles, but we're so used to them we call them ordinary things.

Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.

Human beings, on the contrary, have a soul which lives forever, lives after the body has been turned to dust. It rises up through the clear, pure air beyond the glittering stars.

Where words fail, music speaks.

The wiser a man becomes, the more he will read, and those who are wisest read most.

Farewell, farewell," said the swallow, with a heavy heart, as he left the warm countries, to fly back into Denmark. There he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer of fairy tales. The swallow sang "Tweet, tweet," and from his song came the whole story.

I covet honour in the same way as a miser covets gold.