The beginning sets the rules.
Wisdom is founded on memory; happiness on forgetfulness.
With age, comfort becomes more seductive than beauty.
Sometimes the given seems like something taken away.
The interest in Wisdom is fading. Soon there will not be enough left to support the aphorism, even though it tries to amuse by half-mocking the Wisdom it propounds.
In New York, pretending to be above the struggle means no seat on the bus and a table next to the kitchen.