Knowledge is a weight added to conscience.

I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.

Joy is the reflex of terror.

God blesses man, not for having found but for having sought.

Love is like a tree, it grows of its own accord, it puts down deep roots into our whole being.

There is a sacred horror about everything grand. It is easy to admire mediocrity and hills; but whatever is too lofty, a genius as well as a mountain, an assembly as well as a masterpiece, seen too near, is appalling.

The wise man does not grow old, but ripens.