There is nothing constant in the universe. All ebb and flow, and every shape that's born, bears in its womb the seeds of change.
We two are to ourselves a crowd.
Women's words are as light as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn, Easily swept by the wind, easily drowned by the wave.
People are slow to claim confidence in undertakings of magnitude.
Bear and endure: This sorrow will one day prove to be for your good.
Time glides away and as we get older through the noiseless years; the days flee and are restrained by no reign.