All that is not given is lost.

While God waits for His temple to be built of love, men bring stones.

My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.

The artist is the lover of nature; therefore he is her slave and her master.

Only those of tranquil minds, and none else, can attain abiding joy, by realizing within their souls the Being who manifests one essence in a multiplicity of forms.

Whatever we treasure for ourselves separates us from others; our possessions are our limitations.

[The poets' role is that of] capturing on their instruments the secret stir of life in the air and giving it voice in the music of prophecy