Many a happiness in life, a many a disaster, is due to chance alone; but the peace within us can never be governed by chance.

The living are just the dead on holiday

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.

The souls of all our brethren are ever hovering about us, craving for a caress, and only waiting for the signal.

If the bee disappeared off the face of the earth, man would only have four years left to live.

Is not every action of Hamlet induced by a fanatical impulse, which tells him that duty consists in revenge alone? And dose it need superhuman efforts to recognize that revenge never can be duty? I say again that Hamlet thinks much, but that he is by no means wise.

There is no soul that does not respond to love, for the soul of man is a guest that has gone hungry these centuries back.