He Does Not Weep Who Does Not

The Quantity Of Civilization Is Measured By The Quality Of Imagination.

One Believes Others Will Do What He Will Do To Himself.

In My Old Age There Is A Coming Into Flower. My Body Wanes; My Mind Waxes.

It Is A Terrible Thing To Be Happy! How Pleased We Are With It! How All-sufficient We Think It! How, Being In Possession Of The False Aim Of Life, Happiness, We Forget The True Aim, Duty!

The Realities Of Life Do Not Allow Themselves To Be Forgotten.