I think it is impossible for human minds to think of Death as a final, irrevocable end to life.

I am not afraid of death, but would not want to die in some obscure or pointless way.

I think it is impossible for human minds to think of Death as a final, irrevocable end to life.

While to live in the past and think of what was good and beautiful about it amounts to a sort of seasoning of the present, the perennial wait for tomorrow is bound to result in chronic discontent that poisons one's entire outlook.

One must never look for happiness: one meets it by the way.

The way I see it, there is no greater spiritual beauty than fanaticism, of a sort so sincere it can only end in martyrdom.

Death does not frighten me, but dying obscurely and above all uselessly does.