Sadness Takes Up The Pen More Readily

Philosophy Starts With Doubt And Loves Only Truth.

A Thousand Things Advance; Nine Hundred And Ninety Nine Retreat; That Is Progress.

Melancholy Is At The Bottom Of Everything, Just As At The End Of All Rivers Is The Sea. Can It Be Otherwise In A World Where Nothing Lasts, Where All That We Have Loved Or Shall Love Must Die? Is Death, Then, The Secret Of Life? The Gloom Of An Eternal Mourning Enwraps, More Or Less Closely, Every Serious And Thoughtful Soul, As Night Enwraps The Universe.

Truth Above All, Even When It Upsets Us And Overwhelms Us.

Blessed Be Childhood, Which Brings Down Something Of Heaven Into The Midst Of Our Rough Earthliness.