Loving and perishing: it's been a rhyme all these eternities. The will to love: that is, also being willing to die.

To die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head and with joyfulness, consummated in the midst of children and witnesses: so that an actual leave-taking is possible while he who is leaving is still there.

One never perishes through anybody but oneself.

Too long, the earth has been a madhouse!

Smooth iceis paradisefor those who dance with expertise.

Where the past is venerated the clean and those who clean things up should be kept out. Piety is never happy without a little dust, dirt, and rubbish.

The free man is a warrior.