They blame him who sits silent, they blame him who speaks much, they also blame him who says little; there is no one on earth who is not blamed.

Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks.

What was silent in the father speaks in the son, and often I found in the son the unveiled secret of the father.

Some people are born again; evil-doers go to hell; righteous people go to heaven; those who are free from all worldly desires attain immortality.

Rouse thyself! do not be idle!

This body is wasted, full of sickness, and frail; this heap of corruption breaks to pieces, life indeed ends in death.