Gratitude Is A Soil On Which Joy

Some Men, Like Modern Shops, Hang Everything In Their Show Windows; When One Goes Inside, Nothing Is To Be Found.

The Little Dissatisfaction Which Every Artist Feels At The Completion Of A Work Forms The Germ Of A New Work.

People Look With Sympathetic Eyes Only At The Blossom And The Fruit, And Disregard The Long Period Of Transition During Which The One Is Ripening Into The Other.

Only He Is Free Who Cultivates His Own Thoughts And Strives Without Fear To Do Justice To Them.

The Vain Being Is The Really Solitary Being.