The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing. But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.

When we rejoice in our fullness, then we can part with our fruits with joy.

Memory, the priestess, kills the present and offers its heart to the shrine of the dead past.

The soil in return for her service keeps the tree tied to her, the sky asks nothing and leaves it free.

Power takes as ingratitude the writhing of its victims.

Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.

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.

He only may chastise who loves.

The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail.

A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.