All deep things are song. It seems somehow the very central essence of us, song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls!

Blessed be the God's voice; for it is true, and falsehoods have to cease before it!

Blessed is he who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness. He has a work, a Life-purpose... Get your happiness out of your work or you will never know what real happiness is... Even in the meanest sorts of Labour, the whole soul of a man is composed into a kind of real harmony the instant he sets himself to work!

The archenemy is the arch stupid!

It is not a lucky word, this name impossible; no good comes of those who have it so often in their mouths.

Hardened round us, encasing wholly every notion we form is a wrapping of traditions, hearsay's, and mere words.

There is often more spiritual force in a proverb than in whole philosophical systems.