When good befalls a man he calls it Providence, when evil fate.

In old age we are like a batch of letters that someone has sent. We are no longer in the past, we have arrived.

Earth and sea merged, the sea tossed itself in the air in a fantastic dance, into the shapes of men and horses and tattered banners. I stood in the lee of an overhanging rock and thought of many things.

Do not forget, some give little, and it is much for them, others give all, and it costs them no effort; who then has given most?

I can't even make up a rhyme about an umbrella, let alone death and life and eternal peace.

I stood in the lee of an overhanging rock and thought of many things.

No worse fate can befall a young man or woman than becoming prematurely entrenched in prudence and negation.