A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

What he had not learned, however, was this: to find contentment in himself and his own life

One of the disadwantages of school and learning, he thought dreamily, was that the mind seemed to have the tendency too see and represent all things as though they were flat and had only two dimensions. This, somehow, seemed to render all matters of intellect shallow and worthless.

In every truth, the opposite is equally true. For example, a truth can only be expressed and enveloped in words if it is onesided.

...and the vessel was not full, his intellect was not satisfied, his soul was not at peace, his heart was not still.

If I were poet now, I would not resist the temptation to trace my life back through the delicate shadows of my childhood to the precious and sheltered sources of my earliest memories. But these possessions are far too dear and sacred for the person I now am to spoil for myself. All there is to say of my childhood is that it was good and happy. I was given the freedom to discover my own inclinations and talents, to fashion my inmost pleasures and sorrows myself and to regard the future not as an alien higher power but as the hope and product of my own strength.

That's the way it is when you love. It makes you suffer, and I have suffered much in the years since. But it matters little that you suffer, so long as you feel alive with a sense of the close bond that connects all living things, so long as love does not die!