Women's words are as light as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn, Easily swept by the wind, easily drowned by the wave.
In our play we reveal what kind of people we are.
Yield to him who opposes you; by yielding you conquer.
To feel our ills is one thing, but to cure them is another.
Enhance and intensify one's vision of that synthesis of truth and beauty which is the highest and deepest reality.
O fool, what else is sleep but chill death's likeness?