If only I could so live and so serve the world that after me there should never again be birds in cages.

Where a pack of monkeys had traveled over the road, the smell of them lingered for a long time in the air, a dry and stale, mousy smell.

Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me a chance to do my best.

One must in this lower world love many things to know finally what one loves the best.

And were my faith so strong that it could move mountains, that is the mountain that I would make come to me.

No domestic animal can be as still as a wild animal. The civilized people have lost the aptitude of stillness, and must take lessons in silence from the wild before they are accepted by it.

It is more than their land that you take away from the people, whose native land you take. It is their past as well, their roots and their identity. If you take away the things that they have been used to see and will be expecting to see, you may, in a way, as well take their eyes.