Idleness makes hours pass slowly and years swiftly. Activity makes the hours short and the years long.
A corpse is what's left after waking too often.
When writing poetry, it is not that produces a bright idea, but the bright idea that kindles the fire of.
There is mercy for everyone, except those who are bored with life.
Life is pain and the enjoyment of love is an anesthetic.
Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends