It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset. An illusion, a shadow, a story. That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet. Let us not speak falsely now, the hour's getting late. My life is light, waiting for the death wind, Like a feather on the back of my hand.
All life is an experiment.
We all shall be fables presently. Life is the childhood of eternity. If you ain't the lead dog, the scenery never changes. Hawthorne A bit beyond perception's reach I sometimes believe I see that Life is two locked boxes, each containing the other's key. That man is never happy for the present is so true, that all his relief from unhappiness is only forgetting himself for a little while.