Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.
What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough; for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.
In this treacherous world Nothing is the truth nor a lie. Everything depends on the color Of the crystal through which one sees it
When love is not madness, it is not love.
Restless sunflower; cease to move.
Light-enchanted sunflower, thou
Who gazest ever true and tender
On the sun's revolving splendour.
No windows give a better view than those a man brings with him in his head, not asking for tickets of admission, since at all functions, festivals, or feasts he looks out with the same nice self-composure.
Even in dreams doing good is not wasted.
The heart is an astrologer that always divines the truth.
All life is a dream, and all dreams are dreams.
Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul Yet uncorrected of the higher will, So that men sometimes in their dreams confess An unsuspected, or forgotten, self; -Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin In missing each that salutory rein Of reason, and the grinding will of man.
But whether it be dream or truth, to do well is what matters. If it be truth, for truth's sake. If not, then to gain friends for the time when we awaken.
For man's greatest crime is to have been born.
At the point when affection is not frenzy, it is not adore.
How surely a knowledge of the world hardens the heart!
For even in dreams a good deed is not lost.
These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.
One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it.
The dower of great beauty has always been misfortune, since happiness and beauty do not agree together.
No virtue can be real that has not been tried. The gold in the crucible alone is perfect; the loadstone tests the steel, and the diamond is tried by the diamond, while metals gleam the brighter in the furnace.
All must yield to the weight of years; conquest is not difficult for time.
What law, what reason can deny that gift so sweet, so natural that God has given a stream, a fish, a beast, a bird?
Our treasures trifles seem, and all our life is dreaming, and the dreams themselves are dreams.
The fox is very cunning, but he is more cunning who catches the fox.
All just laws condemn cruelty.
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