A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.

The hour of death waits for no order. Death does not even come from the front. It is ever pressing on from behind. All men know of death, but they do not expect it of a sudden, and it comes upon them unawares. So, though the dry flats extend far out, soon the tide comes and floods the beach.

A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.

... For such as truly love the world, a thousand years would fade like the dream of one night.

There is nothing finer than to be alone with nothing to distract you.

It is a most wonderful comfort to sit alone beneath a lamp, book spread before you, and commune with someone from the past whom you have never met.

The most precious thing in life is its uncertainty