Why who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know nothing else but miracles, whether they be animals feeding in the fields, Or, birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These, with the rest, one and all, are to me, miracles.

After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear - what remains? Nature remains.

Judging from the main portions of the history of the world, so far, justice is always in jeopardy.

And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles

The truth is simple. If it was complicated, everyone would understand it.

I accept reality and dare not question it.

The great city is that which has the greatest man or woman: if it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world.