Beauty, wit, high birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, love, friendship, charity, are subjects all to envious and calumniating time.
One is always on a strange road, watching strange scenery and listening to strange music. Then one day, you will find that the things you try hard to forget are already gone.
We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.
Youth is not a time of life. It is a state of mind. It is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees. It is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions.
Life is about choices. Some we regret. Some we're proud of. We are what we choose to be.
The failures and reverses which await men - and one after another sadden the brow of youth - add a dignity to the prospect of human life, which no Arcadian success would do.
Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being's heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing childlike appetite of what's next and the joy of the game of living.
Penitence is something that enervates our spirit, causing a greater loss than the loss itself and making a bigger mistake than the mistake itself. So never regret.
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