“The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.”

I have an appetite for silence.

I am nobody! Who are you? Are you a nobody, too?

Truth is so rare that it is delightful to tell it.

The Soul selects her own Society.

But a Book is only the Heart’s Portrait- every Page a Pulse.

Common sense is almost as omniscient as God.

That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.

The possible’s slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.

Judge tenderly of me.

The only Commandment I ever obeyed – ‘Consider the Lilies.

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.

They say that God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.

This is my letter to the world that never wrote to me.

Does not Eternity appear dreadful to you. I often get to thinking of it and it seems so dark to me that I almost wish there was no Eternity. To think that we must forever live and never cease to be. It seems as if Death would be a relief to so endless a state of existence.

If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves. You can gain more control over your life by paying closer attention to the little things.

There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.

The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.

Broken vases may still carry beautiful flowers.

Theres no shame in needing softness if your heart speaks in flowers.

April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.

But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.

I don’t want the corpses of flowers about me.

And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place – even the butterfly.