Praises reap not! Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not!

I see through my eyes, not with them.

I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee!

Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.

O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey.

Fun I love, but too much fun is of all things the most loathsome. Mirth is better than fun, and happiness is better than mirth.