Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Love is trembling happiness.
Your friend is your needs answered.
Life without liberty is like a body without spirit.
Love... It surrounds every being and extends slowly to embrace all that shall be.
An eye for an eye, and the whole world would be blind.
If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?
Let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.
Progress lies not in enhancing what is, but in advancing toward what will be.
Yesterday we obeyed kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love.
If the grandfather of the grandfather of Jesus had known what was hidden within him, he would have stood humble and awe-struck before his soul.
Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.
Pain and foolishness lead to great bliss and complete knowledge, for Eternal Wisdom created nothing under the sun in vain.
Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
I wash my hands of those who imagine chattering to be knowledge, silence to be ignorance, and affection to be art.
Nor shall derision prove powerful against those who listen to humanity or those who follow in the footsteps of divinity, for they shall live forever. Forever.
I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
Wisdom ceases to be wisdom when it becomes too proud to weep, too grave to laugh, and too selfish to seek other than itself.
Much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.
Where is the justice of political power if it executes the murderer and jails the plunderer?
March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?