I Laugh At My Heart, And Do

Talent Is Nurtured In Solitude; Character Is Formed In The Stormy Billows Of The World. [ger., Es Bildet Ein Talent Sich In Der Stille, Sich Ein Charakter In Dem Strom Der Welt.]

The Sickness Of The Heart Is Most Easily Got Rid Of By Complaining And Soothing Confidence.

What A Torment It Is To See So Much Loveliness Passing And Repassing Before Us, And Yet Not Dare To Lay Hold Of It!

My Days Are As Happy As Those Reserved By God For His Elect; And Whatever Be My Fate Hereafter, I Can Never Say That I Have Not Tasted Joy— The Purest Joy Of Life.

The Fine Emotions Whence Our Lives We Mold Lie In The Earthly Tumult Dumb And Cold.