Everything in our world, even a drop of dew, is a microcosm of the universe.

Everything is beautiful seen from the point of the intellect, or as truth. But all is sour if seen as experience.

The affections cannot keep their youth any more than men.

A man in a cave or in a camp, a nomad, will die with no more estate than the wolf or the horse leaves.

The roses under my window make no reference to former roses or better ones; they are what they are; they exist with God today. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence.

Our religion vulgarly stands on numbers of believers. Whenever the appeal is made--no matter how indirectly--to numbers, proclamation is then and there made, that religion is not. He that finds God a sweet, enveloping presence, who shall dare to come in?

When there is no vision, people perish.