Riches Amassed In Haste Will Diminish; But

Life Seems So Vulgar, So Easily Content With The Commonplace Things Of Every Day, And Yet It Always Nurses And Cherishes Certain Higher Claims In Secret, And Looks About For The Means Of Satisfying Them.

Is It Not Enough That We Cannot Make One Another Happy, Must We Also Rob One Another Of The Pleasures That Any Heart May Permit Itself Now And Then? And Name Me A Person Who In A Bad Mood Will Be Decent Enough To Hide It, To Bear It Alone, Without Destroying The Joy Around Him. Is It Not Rather An Inner Dissatisfaction With Our Own Unworthiness, A Dislike Of Ourselves That Is Always Associated With Envy Aggravated By Foolish Conceit? We See People Happy And Not Made Happy By Us, And That Is Unbearable.

Life Teaches Us To Be Less Harsh With Ourselves And With Others.

He Who Moves Not Forward, Goes Backward.

Wind Is The Loving Wooer Of Waters; Wind Blends Together Billows All-foaming. Spirit Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Water! Fortune Of Man, Thou Art Like Unto Wind!