The Closing Years Of Life Are Like

It's Pointless To Cry. One Is Born And Dies Alone.

To Avenge A Wrong Done To You, Is To Rob Yourself Of The Comfort Of Crying Out Against The Injustice Of It.

Will Power Is Only The Tensile Strength Of One's Own Disposition. One Cannot Increase It By A Single Ounce.

I Was Happy Enough; I Knew That During The Night The Whole City Might Go Up In Flames And All Its People Be Killed, But The Ravines, Houses, And Footpaths Would Wake In The Morning Calm And Unchanged.

A Corpse Is What's Left After Waking Too Often.