Every day a little life, a blank to be inscribed with gentle thoughts.
When with care we have raised an imaginary treasure of happiness, we find at last that the materials of the structure are frail and perishing, and the foundation itself is laid in the sand.
Think nothing done while aught remains to do.
When a new book is published, read an old one.
Gentle to others, to himself severe.
Vast and deep the mountain shadows grew.