The heads of strong old age are beautiful beyond all grace of youth.

This wild swan of a world is no hunter's game.

Nature knows that people are a tide that swells and in time will ebb, and all their works dissolve ... As for us: We must uncenter our minds from ourselves. We must unhumanize our views a little and become confident as the rock and ocean that we are made from.

I've changed my ways a little, I cannot now Run with you in the evenings along the shore, Except in a kind of dream, and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there.

Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made / Something more equal to the centuries / Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.

There is no reason for amazement: surely one always knew that cultures decay, and life's end is death.

Only the drum is confident, it thinks the world has not changed