A book is a most delightful companion. It gives, and does not take.
Sorrow shatters my heart; And men distress it with blame, Because it follows love.
Bitter is wine, but it sweetens all bitterness.
I went out into the garden in the morning dusk, When sorrow enveloped me like a cloud; And the breeze brought to my nostril the odor of spices, As balm of healing for a sick soul.
Beware the man who has two faces and two hearts.
Words are like bodies; meanings are like souls.