We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.

Man is the only thing that has no further use after something goes amiss.

None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.

Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.

No one will be much or little except in someone else's mind, so be careful of the minds you get into.

We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.

When autumn shadows throw their patterns across the land, they are not the images of fragile, dying leaves, not the bared arms of lofty elms, not shadows of a fading summer; but swinging shapes as of books upon a strap, of round and square boxes held under an arm, of hurrying little people heading towards the nearest school.