Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.
Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence.
The birds looked upon me as nothing but a man, quite a trifling creature without wings-and they would have nothing to do with me. Were it not so I would build a small cabin for myself among their crowd of nests and pass my days counting the sea waves.
Man is a rough-hewn and woman a finished product.
Music fills the infinite between two souls. This has been muffled by the mist of our daily habits.