Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.

There were many who went in huddled procession,They knew not wither,But, at any rate, success or calamityWould attend all in equality.There was one who sought a new road,He went into direful thickets,And ultimately he died thus, alone;But they said he had courage.

It was not well to drive men into final corners; at those moments they could all develop teeth and claws.

When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: "Why?" He replied: "Because no one admired me.

The man had arrived at that stage of drunkenness where affection is felt for the universe.

A little man said to the Universe. "Sir! I exist." The Universe replied: "That's fine." Just don't think it creates any obligation on my part.

Tradition, thou art for suckling children, Thou art the enlivening milk for babes, But no meat for men is in thee.