A book is a most delightful companion. It gives, and does not take.

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.

Sorrow shatters my heart; And men distress it with blame, Because it follows love.

Who ignores the time walks in darkness, and who explores it is illumined by a great light.

A book is a most delightful companion. It gives, and does not take.

Lust should be stifled, for it cannot lead to truth.

Love blinds us to faults, hatred to virtues.