The mountain remains unmoved at seeming defeat by the mist.
Men are cruel, but man is kind.
The soil, in return for her service, keeps the tree tied to her; the sky asks nothing and leaves it free.
Not hammer strokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection.
I have observed, on board a steamer, how men and women easily give way to their instinct for flirtation, because water has the power of washing away our sense of responsibility, and those who on land resemble the oak in their firmness behave like floating seaweed when on the sea.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, And has time enough.
Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal.
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
Time is a wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.
Do not say, "It is morning," and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a newborn child that has no name.
Where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.
A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.
With begging and scrambling we find very little, but with being true to ourselves we find a great deal more.
God respects me when I work, but loves me when I sing.
Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.
God, the Great Giver, can open the whole universe to our gaze in the narrow space of a single lane.
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.
