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Young poets bewail the passing of love old poets, the passing of time. There is surprisingly little difference.
Consciousness is our only reprieve from Time.
The man of sensibility is too busy talking about his feelings to have time for good deeds.
Complainers change their complaints, but they never reduce the amount of time spent in complaining.
The time I kill is killing me.
When I prayed for success, I forgot to ask for sound sleep and good digestion.
If success is a habit, it is a hard one to acquire.
After my spectacular failures, I could not be satisfied with an ordinary success.
Human society sustains itself by transforming nature into garbage.
Romance is tempestuous. Love is calm.