On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net.

Human material seems to have one major defect: it does not like to be considered merely as human material. It finds it hard to endure the feeling that it must resign itself to passive acceptance of changes introduced from above.

The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.

Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth. Do not follow those who lie in contempt of reality. Let your lie be even more logical than the truth itself, so the weary travelers may find repose.

On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net.

What has no shadow has no strength to live.

The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.