If nature is your teacher, your soul will awaken.

Even dirt glitters when the sun is shining upon it

Collectors are happy people.

Higher yet and higher out of clouds and night, nearer yet and nearer rising to the light - light, serene and holy where my soul may rest, purified and lowly, sanctified and blest.

With little wit and ease to suit them, They whirl in narrow circling trails, Like kittens playing with their tails.

You don't love if you don't take the beloved's faults for virtues.

Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean.