Peace is not made through theory.
Too many people die in war.
This grief, this pain
can still be felt.
No matter how loud one cries,
this way no peace can be achieved.
The flowers of the meadow,
the small insects have life.
Each life has to be respected;
Where else should peace come from?
Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is a succession of changes so gentle and easy we can scarcely mark their progress . . .