Love is its own reward.

Whose silence are you?

Before we can realize who we really are, we must become conscious of the fact that the person we think we are, here and now, is at best an impostor and a stranger.

I have learned that one cannot truly know hope unless he has found out how like despair hope is.

I am earth, earth My heart's love Bursts with hay and flowers. I am a lake of blue air In which my own appointed place Field and valley Stand reflected

Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say.

A life that is without problems may literally be more hopeless, than one that always verges on despair.