This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

It is very simple to be happy, but it is very difficult to be simple.

In Art, man reveals himself and not his objects.

In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my house. I find her not. My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained. But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have come to thy door.

Dreams can never be made captive.

For every child that is born, it brings with it the hope that God is not yet disappointed with man.

Do not linger to gather flowers to keep them, but walk on, for flowers will keep themselves blooming all your way.