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Thinking is always the stumbling stone to poetry.
Even the most winged spirit cannot escape physical necessity.
We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting.
Many a woman borrows a man’s heart; very few could possess it.
Men who do not forgive women their little faults will never enjoy their great virtues.
Love that does not renew itself every day becomes a habit and in turn a slavery.
Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.
If you do not understand your friend under all conditions you will never understand him.
Only great sorrow or great joy can reveal your truth.
Should nature heed what we say of contentment no river would seek the sea, and no winter would turn to Spring. Should she heed all we say of thrift, how many of us would be breathing this air?
You are free before the sun of the day, and free before the stars of the night; And you are free when there is no sun and no moon and no star. You are even free when you close your eyes upon all there is. But you are a slave to him whom you love because you love him, And a slave to him who loves you because he loves you.
We are all beggars at the gate of the temple, and each one of us receives his share of the bounty of the King when he enters the temple, and when he goes out. But we are all jealous of one another, which is another way of belittling the King.
A strange form of self-indulgence! There are times when I would be wronged and cheated, that I may laugh at the expense of those who think I do not know I am being wronged and cheated.
How often have I attributed to myself crimes I have never committed, so that the other person may feel comfortable in my presence.
You may judge others only according to your knowledge of yourself. Tell me now, who among us is guilty and who is unguilty?
And when you see a man drunken say in your heart, “Mayhap he sought escape from something still more unbeautiful.”
Oftentimes I have hated in self-defense; but if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon.
Is there a greater fault than being conscious of the other person’s faults?
You cannot judge any man beyond your knowledge of him, and how small is your knowledge.
The obvious is that which is never seen until someone expresses it simply.
have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.
The silence of the envious is too noisy.
An exaggeration is a truth that has lost its temper.
Great beauty captures me, but a beauty still greater frees me even from itself.
We choose our joys and our sorrows long before we experience them.
When either your joy or your sorrow becomes great the world becomes small.
The bitterest thing in our today’s sorrow is the memory of our yesterday’s joy.
Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.
When I stood a clear mirror before you, you gazed into me and saw your image. Then you said, “I love you.” But in truth you loved yourself in me.
You may forget the one with whom you have laughed, but never the one with whom you have wept.
In the autumn I gathered all my sorrows and buried them in my garden. And when April returned and spring came to wed the earth, there grew in my garden beautiful flowers unlike all other flowers. And my neighbors came to behold them, and they all said to me, “When autumn comes again, at seeding time, will you not give us of the seeds of these flowers that we may have them in our gardens?”
Even the hands that make crowns of thorns are better than idle hands.
If they cease struggling against me, slothfulness will deaden their minds and hearts and souls, in accordance with the weird penalties of their tremendous myth.
H e amused himself with shimmering objects that blinded his eyes and heart to life’s secrets; his soul was diverted away from an understanding of the law of nature, and to a temporary self-gratification.
Haven’t we heard that obvious beauty is the cause of many hidden distresses and deep suffering?
I felt all these things and knew that a woman’s happiness does not come through man’s glory and honour, nor through his generosity and affection, but through love that unites both of their hearts and affections, making them one member of life’s body and one word upon the lips of God.
I tried in vain to love him, but love is a power that makes our hearts, yet our hearts cannot make that power.
They are like the deserted caves of the mountains that echo voices whose meanings are not understood.
