Nothing Is Miserable Unless You Think It

I Who Once Wrote Songs With Keen Delight Am Now By Sorrow Driven To Take Up Melancholy Measures. Wounded Muses Tell Me What I Must Write, And Elegiac Verses Bathe My Face With Real Tears. Not Even Terror Could Drive From Me These Faithful Companions Of My Long Journey. Poetry, Which Was Once The Glory Of My Happy And Flourishing Youth, Is Still My Comfort In This Misery Of My Old Age.

I Scarcely Know The Meaning Of Your Question; Much Less Can I Answer It.

Nunc Fluens Facit Tempus,nunc Stans Facit Aeternitatum.(the Now That Passes Produces Time, The Now That Remains Produces Eternity.)

It's My Belief That History Is A Wheel. 'inconstancy Is My Very Essence,'? Says The Wheel. Rise Up On My Spokes If You Like But Don't Complain When You're Cast Back Down Into The Depths. Good Times Pass Away, But Then So Do The Bad. Mutability Is Our Tragedy, But It's Also Our Hope. The Worst Of Times, Like The Best, Are Always Passing Away.

In Other Living Creatures The Ignorance Of Themselves Is Nature, But In Men It Is A Vice.