Is not religion all deeds and all reflection, and that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom?

Much of the pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

You can muffle the drum and you can loosen the strings of the lyre, but who shall command the skylark not to sing?

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter and sharing of pleasure. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror

Wisdom stands as the turn in the road and calls upon us publicly, but we consider it false and despise its adherents.

You are your own forerunner, and the towers you have built are but the foundation of your giant-self. And that self too shall be a foundation.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;For that which you love most in him may beclearer in his absence,as the mountain to the climberis clearer from the plain.