Show me the person you honor, for I know better by that the kind of person you are. For you show me what your idea of humanity is.

To us also, through every star, through every blade of grass, is not God made visible if we will open our minds and our eyes.

Who is it that loves me and will love me forever with an affection which no chance, no misery, no crime of mine can do away? It is you, my mother.

Oh, give us the man who sings at his work.

Time has only a relative existence.

In private life I never knew anyone interfere with other people's disputes but he heartily repented of it.

Every day that is born into the world comes like a burst of music and rings the whole day through, and you make of it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as you will.