In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.

In heaven I yearn for knowledge, account all else inanity; On earth I confess an itch for the praise of fools - that's vanity

There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing; and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing.

And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again.

Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.

Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.

Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!