As Long As There Are Flowers And

I Was Happy, I Knew That. While Experiencing Happiness, We Have Difficulty In Being Conscious Of It. Only When The Happiness Is Past And We Look Back On It Do We Suddenly Realize - Sometimes With Astonishment - How Happy We Had Been.

When Shall I At Last Retire Into Solitude Alone, Without Companions, Without Joy And Without Sorrow, With Only The Sacred Certainty That All Is A Dream? When, In My Rags—without Desires—shall I Retire Contented Into The Mountains? When, Seeing That My Body Is Merely Sickness And Crime, Age And Death, Shall I—free, Fearless, And Blissful—retire To The Forest? When? When, Oh When?

Every Obstacle In His Journey Became A Milestone, An Occasion For Further Triumph. We Have A Model In Front Of Us Now, A Model Who Blazes Our Trail And Gives Us Strength.

To Think Things Out Properly And Fairly, A Fellow's Got To Be Calm And Old And Toothless: When You're An Old Gaffer With No Teeth, It's Easy To Say: 'damn It, Boys, You Mustn't Bite!' But, When You've Got All Thirty-two Teeth.

May He Be Cursed On Earth Who Gives His Trust To Virtue, That Bankrupt Crone Who Takes Our Life's Pure Gold And Gives But Bad Receipts For Payment In The Lower World. Ah, Passers-by That Stroll, Travelers That Come And Go, All That I Had, I Placed On Virtue, And Lost The Game!