You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heath of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one. For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

All work is empty save when there is love.

Your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.

He who passes not his days in the realm of dreams is the slave of the days.

Love passes by us, robed in meekness; but we flee from her in fear, or hide in the darkness; or else pursue her, to do evil in her name.

The nearest to my heart are a king without a kingdom and a poor man who does not know how to beg.

If winter should say, 'Spring is in my heart,' who would believe winter?