First our pleasures die - and then Our hopes, and then our fears - and when These are dead, the debt is due, Dust claims dust - and we die too.
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness.