Formerly, people used to grieve over the departed, but in our days they grieve over the survivors.

When poison becomes a habit, it ceases to injure: make your soul gradually acquainted with death.

To quit this troubled world is better than to enter it: the rosebud enters the garden with straitened heart and departs smiling.

Flowers and fruit are never combined in one place: it is impossible that teeth and delicacies should exist simultaneously.

To the seeker after pearls, silence is a speaking argument, for no breath comes forth from the diver of the sea.

Formerly, people used to grieve over the departed, but in our days they grieve over the survivors.

The life of this transitory world is the expectation of death: to renounce life is to escape from the expectation of annihilation.