Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.
Compliments win friends, honesty loses them.
Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.
When we rejoice in our fullness, then we can part with our fruits with joy.
We sit inert, like dead specimens of some museum, while lessons are pelted at us from on high, like hailstones on flowers.
Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence.