Echoes

Ah! there is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.

Our house is our corner of the world. As has often been said, it is our first universe, a real cosmos in every sense of the word.

Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition, the end to which every enterprise and labour tends, and of which every desire prompts the prosecution.

"Tell me, gentle traveller, thou Who hast wandered far and wide, Seen the sweetest roses blow And the brightest rivers glide,— Say, of all thine eyes have seen, Which the fairest land has been.""Lady, shall I tell thee where Nature seems most blest and fair, Far above all climes beside?— ’Tis where those we love abide; And that little spot is best Which the loved one’s foot hath pressed."Though it be a fairy space, Wide and spreading is the place; Though ’twere but a barren mound, ’Twould become enchanted ground. With thee, yon sandy waste would seem The margin of Al Cawthar's stream; And thou canst make a dungeon’s gloom A bower where new-born roses bloom.

I have arrived. I am home. In the here, in the now. I am solid. I am free. In the ultimate I dwell.

I am not an Athenian or a Greek, but a citizen of the world.

Give all to love; Obey thy heart; Friends, kindred, days, Estate, good fame, Plans, credit, and the muse; Nothing refuse.

The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.

But do not ask me where I am going, As I travel in this limitless world, Where every step I take is my home.

We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets.

It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.

Make an island of yourself, make yourself your refuge; there is no other refuge. Make truth your island, make truth your refuge; there is no other refuge.

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.

One dies twice: to cease to live is nothing, but to cease to love and to be loved is an insupportable death.

There is a love of wild Nature in everybody, an ancient mother-love ever showing itself whether recognized or no, and however covered by cares and duties.

You need a change of soul rather than a change of climate.

Nature everywhere speaks to man in a voice familiar to his soul.

God grant, that not only the Love of Liberty, but a thorough Knowledge of the Rights of Man, may pervade all the Nations of the Earth, so that a Philosopher may set his Foot anywhere on its Surface, and say, 'This is my Country.'

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

He is richest who is content with the least, for contentment is the wealth of nature.

Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.

With coarse rice to eat, with water to drink, and my bended arm for a pillow — I have still joy in the midst of these things. Riches and honors acquired by unrighteousness are to me as a floating cloud.