The closing years of life are like the end of a masquerade party, when the masks are dropped.
You don't remember days, you remember moments.
Idleness makes hours pass slowly and years swiftly. Activity makes the hours short and the years long.
Lessons are not given, they are taken.
We never remember days, only moments.
Living is like working out a long addition sum, and if you make a mistake in the first two totals you will never find the right answer. It means involving oneself in a complicated chain of circumstances.