The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.

The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day.

If you cry because the sun has gone out of your life, your tears will prevent you from seeing the stars.

Oh, grant me my prayer, that I may never lose the touch of the one in the play of the many.

The mountain remains unmoved at its seeming defeat by the mist.

I have observed, on board a steamer, how men and women easily give way to their instinct for flirtation, because water has the power of washing away our sense of responsibility, and those who on land resemble the oak in their firmness behave like floating seaweed when on the sea.

The trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth