Much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
A woman whom Providence has provided with beauty of spirit and body is a truth, at the same time both open and secret, which we can understand only by love, and touch only by virtue.
Advance, and never halt, for advancing is perfection. Advance and do not fear the thorns in the path, for they draw only corrupt blood.
I wash my hands of those who imagine chattering to be knowledge, silence to be ignorance, and affection to be art.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion. When you enter into it take with you your all.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
Love is trembling happiness.
Yes, there is a Nirvanah; it is leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem.
They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.
Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.
I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.
What is this world that is hastening me toward I know not what, viewing me with contempt?
Give me an ear and I will give you a Voice...
The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the greatest intention.
Art arises when the secret vision of the artist and the manifestation of nature agree to find new shapes.
An eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind.