The canary is like a man's soul. It sees bars around it, but instead of despairing, it sings.

I loved my body and did not want it to perish; I loved my soul and did not want it to decay. I have fought to reconcile these two primordial forces.

I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.

Beauty always had a purpose: to be of service to life.

I said to the almond tree, 'Sister, speak to me of God.' And the almond tree blossomed.

You have your brush, you have your colors, you paint the paradise, then in you go.

When shall I at last retire into solitude alone, without companions, without joy and without sorrow, with only the sacred certainty that all is a dream? When, in my rags—without desires—shall I retire contented into the mountains? When, seeing that my body is merely sickness and crime, age and death, shall I—free, fearless, and blissful—retire to the forest? When? When, oh when?