When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
I regained my soul through literature after those times I'd lost it to wild-eyed gypsy girls on the European streets.
I just wish moments weren’t so fleeting!' Isaac called to the man on the roof, 'They pass so quickly!' 'Fleeting?!' responded the tilling man, 'Moments? They pass quickly?! . . . Why, once a man is finished growing, he still has twenty years of youth. After that, he has twenty years of middle age. Then, unless misfortune strikes, nature gives him twenty thoughtful years of old age. Why do you call that quickly?' And with that, the tilling man wiped his sweaty brow and continued tilling; and the dejected Isaac continued wandering. 'Stupid fool!' Isaac muttered quietly to himself as soon as he was far enough away not to be heard.
The youthful body untouched decays the fastest, for no living hands record its splendor; and here youth and time are wasted.
I care not that this moment’s lot was thin and sparsely dealt; all pleasures sweet can be forgot the instant they are felt.
From all that I saw, and everywhere I wandered, I learned that time cannot be spent. It can only be squandered.