To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.

You have to accept the storms and the rainy days and the things in life that you sometimes don't want to face.

Heaven is high, Earth Wide. Bitter between them flies my sorrow.

The world is like a great empty dream. Why should one toil away one's life?

Shade and light are different in every valley.

All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other - Only the mountain and I.

You ask why I make my home n the mountain forest, and I smile, and am silent, and even my soul remains quiet: it lives in the other world which no one owns. The peach trees blossom, The water flows.

I'm not superstitious.

I bow in reverence to the white cloud.

A strip of water's spread in the setting sun, Half the river's emerald, half is red. I love the third night of the ninth month, The dew is like a pearl; the moon like a bow.

Forever and forever and forever

When people hurt you over and over, think of them like sandpaper. They may scratch and hurt you a bit, but in the end you end up polished and they end up useless.

The road simply ended. No cul-de-sac. No sign like the ones they had seen before: "Private Property. No Trespassing." Or "No Motorized Vehicles Beyond This Point." Just road...then trees.

If there were in the world today any large number of people who desired their own happiness more than they desired the unhappiness of others, we could have a paradise in a few years.

Many societies have educated their male children on the simple device of teaching them not to be women.

I trust my taste. I trust it completely and I always have done, and I've always thought it isn't that different from everybody else's.

Nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of the beauties either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting.

It is not down in any map; true places never are.

What is best and most necessary usually happens.

Tennis is like marrying for money. Love has nothing to do with it.

Shooting a movie is the worst milieu for creative work ever devised by man.