“The first pages of memory are like the old family Bible. The first leaves are wh…” — Max Muller

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?

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.

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

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