Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.
No lower can a man descend than to interpret his dreams into gold and silver.
These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.
Much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
History does not repeat itself except in the minds of those who do not know history.
Those who give you a serpent when you ask for a fish, may have nothing but serpents to give.