Now I realize that the trees blossom in Spring and bear fruit in Summer without seeking praise; and they drop their leaves in Autumn and become naked in Winter without fearing blame.

He who does not prefer exile to slavery is not free by any measure of freedom, truth and duty.

Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness.

The snow and the storm destroy the flower; but its seed they cannot kill.

Marriage is like a temple resting on two pillars. If they come too close to each other the temple will collapse.

Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy, you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your body and less of your raiment.

The highest virtue here may be least in another world.