Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.

The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows.

Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.

The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.

It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.

Hark to that shrill, sudden shout, The cry of an applauding multitude, Swayed by some loud-voiced orator who wields The living mass as if he were its soul!

These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.

But 'neath yon crimson tree Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame, Nor mark, within its roseate canopy, Her blush of maiden shame.

Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.

There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night; And grief may hide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.

The groves were God's first temples.

Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering and reordering the chaos of experience.

Being married or being in a close relationship is not based on how quickly you can get offended but on how you are ready to drop the offences, get over it and move ahead.

You are the only person that you'll have for the rest of your life. Cherish yourself. Treat yourself with kindness. Love yourself. Be your own caretaker.

You don’t get to break someone's heart and think everything is fine just because you say sorry. That's just not fair.

Speak of love with others. Remind each other of your spiritual purpose

All doubt is cowardice - all trust is brave.

If I had not been defeated in Acre against Jezzar Pasha of Turk. I would conquer all of the East.

A good number of works owe their success to the mediocrity of their authors' ideas, which match the mediocrity of those of the general public.

The Gnostic only can wake up to the true state of Illumination by understanding and disintegrating dreams.