To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.

I cannot remember how I felt when the light went out of my eyes. I suppose I felt it was always night and perhaps I wondered why the day did not come.

Literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disenfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet, gracious discourse of my book friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness.

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet.

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.

Strike against war, for without you no battles can be fought. Strike against manufacturing shrapnel and gas bombs and all other tools of murder. Strike against preparedness that means death and misery to millions of human beings. Be not dumb, obedient slaves in an army of destruction. Be heroes in an army of construction.

Remember, no effort that we make to attain something beautiful is ever lost.