Trees Are Poems That The Earth Writes

There Is Within Me A Friend Who Consoles Me Every Time That Troubles Overwhelm Me And Misfortunes Afflict Me. The Man Who Does Not Feel Friendship Towards Himself Is A Public Enemy, And He Who Finds No Confidant Within Himself Will Die Of Despair. For Life Streams Out Of Man's Inner Self And In No Way From What Surrounds Him.

If Winter Should Say, 'spring Is In My Heart,' Who Would Believe Winter?

My Friend, Be Not Like Him Who Sits By His Fireside And Watches The Fire Go Out, Then Blows Vainly Upon The Dead Ashes. Do Not Give Up Hope Or Yield To Despair Because Of That Which Is Past, For To Bewail The Irretrievable Is The Worst Of Human Frailties.

I Have Found Both Freedom And Safety In My Madness; The Freedom Of Loneliness And The Safety From Being Understood, For Those Who Understand Us Enslave Something In Us.

He Who Seeks Ecstasy In Love Should Not Complain Of Suffering.