Simplicity (n.) is, as the ripe fruit of intellect, produced by much effort — not the simplicity every seminarist admires; as good taste in dress shows as an effect of carelessness no baker's boy understands.
Simplicity (n.) gives me my dearest occupation: not to discover something new but to ponder what is quite simple.
Simplicity (n.) is not the start but the goal: the movement runs from the interesting back to the simple, from System to becoming a Christian.
Simplicity (n.) is, Christianly, not where you start before becoming interesting and profound; it is where you end, growing simpler and simpler.
Simplicity (n.) is never deceived, as the lily waiting silently for spring is not, since deception can happen only to shrewdness, not to what neither deceives nor is deceived.
Simplicity (n.) does not depend, in teaching, on plain words rather than learned ones; it consists in the teacher himself being what he teaches.
Simplicity (n.) is made eternally secure only by letting itself be deceived while seeing through the deceit; evil wins a serious victory when it tempts simplicity to turn shrewd for its own safety.