Verily the kindness that gazes upon itself in a mirror turns to stone, and a good deed that calls itself by tender names becomes the parent to a curse.

For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks." Thus I became a madman.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.

When you are sorrowful, look again.

Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.

Men who do not forgive women their little faults will never enjoy their great virtues.

Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.