He repeated her name over and over again. The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.
But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect.
Every little action of the common day makes or unmakes character.
Philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity. It is their distinguishing characteristic.
Destiny does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel for that.
You came to me to learn the Pleasure of Life and the Pleasure of Art. Perhaps I am chosen to teach you something much more wonderful, the meaning of Sorrow and its beauty.