Say of him what you please, but I know my child's failings. I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child. How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults? When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being. When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him. I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves.

Death belongs to life as birth does The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down

The earth paints a portrait of the sun at dawn with sunflowers in bloom. Unhappy with the portrait, she erases it and paints it again and again.

If it is necessary to die in order to live like men, what harm in dying?

Life's aspirations come in the guise of children.

Life itself is a strange mixture. We have to take it as it is, try to understand it, and then to better it.

Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.