Not ill? No truly, I am young, healthful, and strong; the blood flows freely in my veins; my limbs obey my will; I am robust in mind and body, constituted for a long life. Yes, all this is true; and yet, nevertheless, I have an illness, a fatal illness,-an illness given by the hand of man!

What a grand thing, to be loved! What a grander thing still, to love!

Not seeing people allows you to think of them as perfect in all kinds of ways.

He who opens a school door, closes a prison.

Yes, instruction! Light! Light! Everything comes from light, and to everything it returns.

When a man understands the art of seeing, he can trace the spirit of an age and the features of a king even in the knocker on a door.

Spira, spera. (breathe, hope)