“The thoughtful soul to solitude retires.”

My friend, let’s not think of tomorrow, but let’s enjoy this fleeting moment of life.

The Flower that once has blown forever dies.

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom.

Thy Return is as another Sun to Heaven; a new Rose blooming in the Garden of the Soul.

Justice is the soul of the universe.

We are thinking about bad only those who are worse than we are, and those who are better than us … I’m just not up to us … One does not follow it than smell roses. Another of the bitter herbs will produce honey. Give bread to one – will remember forever. Another life donation – do not understand.

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes The Sultan’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.

So when that Angel of the darker Drink, at last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul forth to your Lips to quaff-you shall not shrink.

Settle yourself in solitude, and you will come upon God in yourself.

The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude.

Without solitude it is virtually impossible to live a spiritual life. We do not take the spiritual life seriously if we do not set aside some time to be with God and listen to him.

It is in solitude that we discover that being is more important than having and that we are worth more than the results of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended but a gift to be shared.

Solitude is the furnace of transformation. Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self.

However softly we speak, God is so close to us that he can hear us; nor do we need wings to go in search of him, but merely to seek solitude and contemplate him within ourselves, without being surprised to find such a good Guest there.

I feel strongly that the God we meet in solitude is always the God who calls us to community.

No person who has not spent a period of his life in those ‘stark and sullen solitudes that sentinel the Pole’ will understand fully what trees and flowers, sun-flecked turf and running streams mean to the soul of a man