My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear — a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence. The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

Hate is a dead thing. Who of you would be a tomb?

If it were not for guests all houses would be graves.

That deed which in our guilt we today call weakness, will appear tomorrow as an essential link in the complete chain of Man.

Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.

From a sensitive woman's heart springs the happiness of mankind, and from the kindness of her noble spirit comes mankind's affection.

And let to-day embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.