Gray Hairs Are Death's Blossoms.

Fear Of Death Is Worse Than Dying.

As Noble Art Has Survived Noble Nature, So Too She Marches Ahead Of It, Fashioning And Awakening By Her Inspiration. Before Truth Sends Her Triumphant Light Into The Depths Of The Heart, Imagination Catches Its Rays, And The Peaks Of Humanity Will Be Glowing When Humid Night Still Lingers In The Valleys.

I Have Enjoyed The Happiness Of The World; I Have Loved.

Individual Character Is In The Right That Is In Strict Consistence With Itself. Self-contradiction Is The Only Wrong.

Far Must Thy Researches Go Wouldst Thou Learn The World To Know; Thou Must Tempt The Dark Abyss Wouldst Thou Prove What Being Is; Naught But Firmness Gains The Prize, Naught But Fullness Makes Us Wise, Buried Deep Truth E'er Lies.