Who mocks at music mocks at love.

We all to some extent meet again and again the same people and certainly in some cases form a kind of family of two or three or more persons who come together life after life until all passionate relations are exhausted, the child of one life the husband, wife, brother, sister of the next. Sometimes, however, a single relationship will repeat itself, turning its revolving wheel again and again.

The years like great black oxen tread the world, and God, the herdsman goads them on behind, and I am broken by their passing feet.

Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.

If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.

I have read somewhere that in the Emperor's palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds that sang.

Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.