Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait.

Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.

If in the twilight of memory We should meet once more, We shall speak again Together and you shall sing to me A deeper song. And if our hands should meet; In another dream, we shall build another tower in the sky.

I avow my faith that we are marching toward better days. Humanity will not be cast down. We are going on swinging bravely forward along the grand high road and already behind the distant mountains is the promise of the sun.

“How sweet your letter are, and how delightful. They are like a river of nectar which flows down from the mountain top and sings its way into the valley of my dreams. Indeed, they are like Orpheus’ lute, which attracts things that are far away, and by means of its enchanted reverberations turns stones into glowing torches and boughs into agitated wings. The day when one of your letters arrives is equal to the peak of the mountain for me.”

Hope is the pillar that holds up the world. Hope is the dream of a waking man.

The wish to pray is a prayer in itself.

Within us we have a hope which always walks in front of our present narrow experience; it is the undying faith in the infinite in us.

He who wants to enjoy the glory of the sunrise must live through the night.

It is in vain to expect our prayers to be heard, if we do not strive as well as pray.