I was shortly again at the castle, and the Princess gave me her hand to kiss and then brought her children, the young princes and princesses, and we played together, as if we had known each other for years. Max Muller bringcastlechild share on social
Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust? Max Muller butterflychrysalisdust Change image and share on social
Not far from our house, and opposite the old church with the golden cross, stood a large building, even larger than the church, and having many towers. Max Muller buildchurchcross Change image and share on social
Would not the child's heart break in despair when the first cold storm of the world sweeps over it, if the warm sunlight of love from the eyes of mother and father did not shine upon him like the soft reflection of divine light and love? Max Muller breakchildcold share on social
I spend my happiest hours in reading Vedantic books. They are to me like the light of the morning, like the pure air of the mountains - so simple, so true, if once understood. Max Muller airbookhappy Change image and share on social
Whoever knows it also knows that in love there is no More and no Less; but that he who loves can only love with the whole heart, and with the whole soul; with all his strength and with all his will. Max Muller heartlovesoul Change image and share on social
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. Max Muller caredustylife Change image and share on social
Yes, now I understood for the first time that my soul was not so poor and empty as it had seemed to me, and that it had been only the sun that was lacking to open all its germs, and buds to the light. Max Muller budemptygerm Change image and share on social
Soon the child learns that there are strangers, and ceases to be a child. Max Muller ceasechildlearn Change image and share on social
And then when all around grows dark, when we feel utterly alone, when all men right and left pass us by and know us not, a forgotten feeling rises in the breast. Max Muller breastdarkfeel Change image and share on social
