If even dying is to be made a social function, then, grant me the favor of sneaking out on tiptoe without disturbing the party.

Forgiving is forgetting, in spite of remembering.

I believe that we should die with decency so that at least decency will survive.

The more faithfully you listen to the voices within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside.

So rests the sky against the earth. The dark still tarn in the lap of the forest. As a husband embraces his wife's body in faithful tenderness, so the bare ground and trees are embraced by the still, high, light of the morning. I feel an ache of longing to share in this embrace, to be united and absorbed. A longing like carnal desire, but directed towards earth, water, sky, and returned by the whispers of the trees, the fragrance of the soil, the caresses of the wind, the embrace of water and light. Content? No, no, no - but refreshed, rested - while waiting.

Never let success hide its emptiness from you, achievement its nothingness, toil its desolation. And so...keep alive the incentive to push on further, that pain in the soul which drives us beyond ourselves...Do not look back. And do not dream about the future, either. It will neither give you back the past, nor satisfy your other daydreams. Your duty, your reward - your destiny - are here and now.

If a good person does you wrong, act as though you had not noticed it. They will make note of this and not remain in your debt long.