Old Age Is The Supreme Evil, For

Rest Forever, Tired Heart. The Final Illusion Has Perished. The One We Believed Eternal Is Gone. Just Like That. Out The Door Desire Follows Hope. Rest Forever. Enough Throbbing. Nothing Deserves Your Attention Nor Is The Earth Worth A Sigh. Bitterness And Boredom Is Life, Nothing Else Ever, And The World Is Mud. Quiet Now. Despair For The Last Time. Fate Gives Us Dying As A Gift. Now Turn From The Hills, The Ugly Hidden Power Which Rules For The Common Evil And The Infinite Vanity Of It All.

I May Be Wrong, But It Seems Rare In Our Age To Find A Widely Praised Person Whose Own Mouth Is Not The Source Of That Praise.

Irresolute Men Are Sometimes Very Persistent In Their Undertakings, Because If They Give Up Their Designs They Would Have To Make A Second Resolution.

Children Find Everything In Nothing; Men Find Nothing In Everything.

The Old Man, Especially If He Is In Society In The Privacy Of His Thoughts, Though He May Protest The Opposite, Never Stops Believing That, Through Some Singular Exception Of The Universal Rule, He Can In Some Unknown And Inexplicable Way Still Make An Impression On Women.