Art is a step in the known toward the unknown

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

One day you will ask me which is more important? My life or yours? I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life.

Your thought describes laws, courts, judges, punishments. Mine explains that when man makes a law, he either violates it or obeys it. If there is a basic law, we are all one before it. He who disdains the mean is himself mean. He who vaunts his scorn of the sinful vaunts his disdain of all humanity.

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

The poet is a bird of strange moods. He descends from his lofty domain to tarry among us, singing; if we do not honor him he will unfold his wings and fly back to his dwelling place.