Do not forget, some give little, and it is much for them, others give all, and it costs them no effort; who then has given most?

But things worked out. Everything works out. Though sometimes they work out sideways.

The writer must be able to revel and roll in the abundance of words; he must know not only the direct but also the secret power of a word. There are overtones and undertones to a word, and lateral echoes, too.

I have gone to the forest.

No worse fate can befall a young man or woman than becoming prematurely entrenched in prudence and negation.

But now it was spring again, and spring was almost unbearable for sensitive hearts. It drove creation to its utmost limits, it wafted its spice-laden breath even into the nostrils of the innocent.

Do not forget, some give little, and it is much for them, others give all, and it costs them no effort; who then has given most?