Every life has its years in which one progresses as on a tedious and dusty street of poplars withou

Every life has its years in which one progresses as on a tedious and dusty street of poplars without caring to know where he is.

Author: Max Muller

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

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

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

Soon the child learns that there are strangers, and ceases to be a child.

Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all of one’s lifetime.

We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us.

It's impossible to protect your kids against disappointment in life.

There is no such thing in life as normal.