If I say to the moment: 'Stay now! You are so beautiful'!

Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; The dearest child of Faith is Miracle.

The senses do not deceive us, but the judgment does.

Poor fool! in whose petty estimation all things are little.

Each ten years of a man's life has its own fortunes, its own hopes, its own desires.

Know'st thou yesterday, its aim and reason? Work'st thou will today for worthier things? Then calmly wait the morrow's hidden season, And fear thou not, what hap soe'er it brings

To a valet no man is a hero.