I believe that poems die the moment they are outwardly expressed. - Maurice Maeterlinck

We suffer but little from suffering itself; but from the manner wherein we accept it overwhelming sorrow may spring.

We are wrong in believing that it comes from without. For indeed we create it within us, out of our very substance.

Вот впереди всех - Великая Радость Быть Справедливым, она улыбается всякий раз, когда нарушенная справедливость восстанавливается. Я еще молодо, и поэтому мне пока не приходилось видеть ее улыбку.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough. If we always had smiled on the one who is gone, there would be no despair in our grief; and some sweetness would cling to our tears, reminiscent of virtues and happiness. For our recollections of veritable love — which indeed is the act of virtue containing all others — call from our eyes the same sweet, tender tears as those most beautiful hours wherein memory was born.