Trickery succeeds sometimes, but it always commits suicide.

How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth?

Life is the mistress to be wooed.

But you who walk facing the sun, what images drawn on the earth can hold you?

Progress lies not in enhancing what is, but in advancing toward what will be.

Seven times have I despised my soul: The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her own masks.

For the vision of one man lends not its wings to another man.