He who seeks ecstasy in love should not complain of suffering.

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Everyone has experienced that truth: that love, like a running brook, is disregarded, taken for granted; but when the brook freezes over, then people begin to remember how it was when it ran, and they want it to run again.

Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.

The lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master.

joy and sorrow are inseparable. . . together they come and when one sits alone with you . . remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.