Everything We Do Has A Result. But

Sweet Moonlight, Shining Full And Clear, Why Do You Light My Torture Here? How Often Have You Seen Me Toil, Burning Last Drops Of Midnight Oil. On Books And Papers As I Read, My Friend, Your Mournful Light You Shed. If Only I Could Flee This Den And Walk The Mountain-tops Again, Through Moonlit Meadows Make My Way, In Mountain Caves With Spirits Play - Released From Learning's Musty Cell, Your Healing Dew Would Make Me Well!

Everything Transitory Is But An Image.

Everything Is Both Simpler Than We Can Imagine And More Entangled Than We Can Conceive.

Even Though The World As A Whole Progresses, Youth Must Always Start Again From The Beginning, And As Individuals Go Through The Epochs Of The World's Culture.

Each Traveler Should Know What He Has To See, And What Properly Belongs To Him, On A Journey.