In Shakespeare the birds sing, the bushes are clothed with green, hearts love, souls suffer, the cloud wanders, it is hot, it is cold, night falls, time passes, forests and multitudes speak, the vast eternal dream hovers over all. Sap and blood, all forms of the multiple reality, actions and ideas, man and humanity, the living and the life, solitudes, cities, religions, diamonds and pearls, dung-hills and charnelhouses, the ebb and flow of beings, the steps of comers and goers, all, all are on Shakespeare and in Shakespeare.

Sire, you are looking at a plain man, and I am looking at a great man. Each of us may benefit.

Let us sacrifice one day to gain perhaps a whole life.

Who among us has not sought peace in a song?

Emotion is always new.

Habit is the nursery of errors.

Night and the day, when united, Bring forth the beautiful light.