Faith Can Move Mountains; True:

It Is With Noble Sentiments That Bad Literature Gets Written.

Oh, Would That My Mind Could Let Fall Its Dead Ideas, As The Tree Does Its Withered Leaves! And Without Too Many Regrets, If Possible! Those From Which The Sap Has Withdrawn. But, Good Lord, What Beautiful Colors!

Sadness Is A State Of Sin.

Man: The Most Complex Of Beings, And Thus The Most Dependent Of Beings. On All That Made You Up, You Depend.

Solitude Is Bearable Only With God.