Produce great men, the rest follows.

Women sit or move to and fro, some old, some young, / The young are beautiful--but the old are more beautiful than the young.

I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.

Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.

I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.

Old age: The estuary that enlarges and spreads itself grandly as it pours into the Great Sea.

I sing the body that is electric! I celebrate the Self yet to be unveiled!