The seasons shall tire and the years grow old, ere they exhaust these words: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.

I have met the soul walking upon my path.

I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do — for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

All that you see was and is for your sake. The numerous books, uncanny markings, and beautiful thoughts are the ghosts of souls who preceded you.

We were a silent, hidden thought in the folds of oblivion, and we have become a voice that causes the heavens to tremble.

I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore.

The wind may blow and then cease, and the sea shall swell and then weary, but the heart of life is a sphere quiet and serene, and the star that shines therein is fixed for evermore.