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

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.

The poetry of the earth is never dead

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed

I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings

Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains; but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them