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?

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.

Life without liberty is like a body without spirit.

Where is the justice of political power if it executes the murderer and jails the plunderer, and then itself marches upon neighboring lands, killing thousands and pillaging the very hills?