Whoever knows it also knows that in love there is no More and no Less; but that he who loves can only love with the whole heart, and with the whole soul; with all his strength and with all his will.

And then when all around grows dark, when we feel utterly alone, when all men right and left pass us by and know us not, a forgotten feeling rises in the breast.

Of these years nought remains in memory but the sad feeling that we have advanced and only grown older.

Soon the child learns that there are strangers, and ceases to be a child.

I spend my happiest hours in reading Vedantic books. They are to me like the light of the morning, like the pure air of the mountains - so simple, so true, if once understood.

The first pages of memory are like the old family Bible. The first leaves are wholly faded and somewhat soiled with handling. But, when we turn further, and come to the chapters where Adam and Eve were banished from Paradise, then, all begins to grow clear and legible.

Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?

The spring of love becomes hidden and soon filled up.

While the river of life glides along smoothly, it remains the same river; only the landscape on either bank seems to change.

That is the returning to God which in reality is never concluded on earth but yet leaves behind in the soul a divine home sickness, which never again ceases.

Not far from our house, and opposite the old church with the golden cross, stood a large building, even larger than the church, and having many towers.

Whoever knows it also knows that in love there is no More and no Less; but that he who loves can only love with the whole heart, and with the whole soul; with all his strength and with all his will.

I was shortly again at the castle, and the Princess gave me her hand to kiss and then brought her children, the young princes and princesses, and we played together, as if we had known each other for years.

Every life has its years in which one progresses as on a tedious and dusty street of poplars, without caring to know where he is.

A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.

What is emitted from the divine, though it be only like the reflection from the fire, still has the divine reality in itself, and one might almost ask what were the fire without glow, the sun without light, or the Creator without the creature?

I was so astonished that another had penetrated so deeply into the secrets of my soul, and that he knew what I did not know myself, that when I recovered from it he had already been long upon the street.

Childhood has its secrets and its mysteries; but who can tell or who can explain them!

How mankind defers from day to day the best it can do, and the most beautiful things it can enjoy, without thinking that every day may be the last one, and that lost time is lost eternity!

It smote me to the heart that I had found no one in all the world who loved me more than all others.

Thus one memory follows another until the waves dash together over our heads, and a deep sigh swells the breast, which warns us that we have forgotten to breathe in the midst of these pure thoughts.

I believe I can even yet remember when I saw the stars for the first time.

Would not the child's heart break in despair when the first cold storm of the world sweeps over it, if the warm sunlight of love from the eyes of mother and father did not shine upon him like the soft reflection of divine light and love?

Yes, now I understood for the first time that my soul was not so poor and empty as it had seemed to me, and that it had been only the sun that was lacking to open all its germs, and buds to the light.

Childhood has its secrets and its mysteries but who can tell or who can explain them

Soon the child learns that there are strangers and ceases to be a child.

There is no book in the world that is so thrilling, stirring and inspiring as the Upanishads.

Thank you to all for your prayers and good wishes. It gave me the strength to persevere and warmed my heart.

Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart, and it cannot touch my soul.

A desire to be observed, considered, esteemed, praised, beloved, and admired by his fellows is one of the earliest as well as the keenest dispositions discovered in the heart of man.

A man must be strong in that profession, he must have vigor of body and mind, yet I am all out of breath if I walk up a hill; I have not the heart to crush even a fly.

Well, after I had the heart attack, it was a very simple choice. What the doctor told me I did and I did it religiously. I ate nothing but lean turkey breast or chicken breast or a piece of fish that was very lean. I mean I stayed away from everything.

Then, in that hour of deliverance, my heart spoke. Does not such a country, and such defenders of their country, deserve a song?

There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophies. My brain and my heart are my temples; my philosophy is kindness.

I try to teach my heart not to want things it can't have.

The heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good.

When you know something in your heart, you better not be quiet about it. You better speak out about it.

Death comes not to the living soul, nor age to the loving heart.

In every tyrant's heart there springs in the end this poison, that he cannot trust a friend.

If you give it good concentration, good energy, good heart and good performance, the song will play you.

Great joy, especially after a sudden change of circumstances, is apt to be silent, and dwells rather in the heart than on the tongue.

There is no persuasiveness more effectual than the transparency of a single heart, of a sincere life.

Grissom is pretty asexual. He's not that interested in anything other than work - except for Lady Heather. She's the closest to getting his heart of anyone.

The tender heart, the broken and contrite spirit, are to me far above all the joys that I could ever hope for in this vale of tears.

I've had a big heart my whole life; all the Korn fans know that. A lot of people told me that I was different.

Peace will be when you accept it in your heart.

When not deeply engaged in creative activities, or numbed out by the TV, I felt empty. My heart hurt. I often felt hollow or as if I were some sort of wispy ghost, barely existing.

Good directors say, Here's where the play is. They stand by the heart of the matter. Some of them stand beside it.

Since love first made the breast an instrument Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart Was molten to a mirror, like a rose I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang This mirror in your sight.