“Only the soldier is a free man, because he can look death in the face.”

What reason, like the careful ant, draws laboriously together, the wind of accident sometimes collects in a moment.

What the inner voice says will not disappoint the hoping soul.

Even the weak become strong when they are united.

Toil of science swells the wealth of art.

Soon is the struggle past, and to the earth, To the eternal sun, I render back These atoms, joined in me for pain and pleasure.

Power is the most persuasive rhetoric.

The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and billows.

Arrow-swift the present sweepeth, and motionless forever stands the past.

Worthless is the nation that does not gladly stake it’s all on its honor.

Our safety is not in blindness, but in facing our dangers.

Man, living, feeling man, is the easy sport of the over-mastering present.

Nothing, it is true, is more common than for both Science and Art to pay homage to the spirit of the age, and for creative taste to accept the law of critical taste.

Truth is more than a dream and a song.

Eternity gives nothing back of what one leaves out of the minutes.

Dare to err and to dream. Deep meaning often lies in childish plays.

Physical beauty is the sign of an interior beauty, a spiritual and moral beauty which is the basis, the principle, and the unity of the beautiful.

Between holding on and letting go october discerns october knows, that life lurks between the clouds of death and death breathes with every rebirth.

Rock stars come and go. Musicians play until they die.

The dead have need of fairy tales too.

Death is just where your suit falls off and now you’re in your other suit. You can’t see it on this level, but it’s all right. Don’t worry.

She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.

Whoever lives among many evils just as I, how can dying not be a source of gain?

I’m not afraid of death. That is the greatest mystery of all. That’ll be it, that one. But it is all a race against time.

And as long as people have problems, the blues can never die.