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

Those who think to reach God by running away from the world, when and where do they expect to meet him? We are reaching him here in this very spot, now at this very moment.

Art awakens a sense of real by establishing an intimate relationship between our inner being and the universe at large, bringing us a consciousness of deep joy.

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

Truth reveals itself in beauty.

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

Compliments win friends, honesty loses them.