(...) The Tree Forsakes Not The Flower:

Nothing Makes Time Pass Or Shortens The Way Like A Thought That Absorbs In Itself All The Faculties Of The One Who Is Thinking. External Existence Is Then Like A Sleep Of Which This Thought Is The Dream. Under Its Influence, Time Has No More Measure, Space Has No More Distance.

......when One Loves, One Is Only Too Ready To Believe One's Love Returned.

You Scholars, You're In Communication With The Devil.

He Who Has Felt The Deepest Grief Is Best Able To Experience Supreme Happiness.

It Is The Way Of Weakened Minds To See Everything Through A Black Cloud. The Soul Forms Its Own Horizons; Your Soul Is Darkened, And Consequently The Sky Of The Future Appears Stormy And Unpromising