Max Muller

And then when all around grows dark, when we feel utterly alone, when all men right and left pass us by and know us not, a forgotten feeling rises in the breast.

While the river of life glides along smoothly, it remains the same river; only the landscape on either bank seems to change.

I believe I can even yet remember when I saw the stars for the first time.

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

I spend my happiest hours in reading Vedantic books. They are to me like the light of the morning, like the pure air of the mountains - so simple, so true, if once understood.

The spring of love becomes hidden and soon filled up.

A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.