We endeavor to stuff the universe into the gullet of an aphorism.
Avarice is fear sheathed in gold.
In the spider-web of facts, many a truth is strangled.
Reading the epitaphs, our only salvation lies in resurrecting the dead and burying the living.
Having read the inscriptions upon the tombstones of the great and little cemeteries, Wang Peng advised the Emperor to kill all the living and resurrect the dead.
We mourn the transitory things and fret under the yoke of the immutable ones.