What One Has Wished For In Youth,

We Lay Aside Letters Never To Read Them Again, And At Last We Destroy Them Out Discretion, And So Disappears The Most Immediate Breath Of Life, Irrecoverably For Ourselves And For Others.

Children, Love One Another, And If That Is Not Possible-at Least Try To Put Up With One Another.

Experience Is Only Half Of Experience.

Pity On The Person Who Has Become Accustomed To Seeing In Necessity Something Arbitrary, Who Ascribes To The Arbitrary Some Sort Of Reason, And Even Claims That Following That Sort Of Reason Has Religious Value.

Thus I Reel From Desire To Fulfillment And In Fulfillment Languish For Desire.