You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.
After all, if you do not resist the apparently inevitable, you will never know how inevitable the inevitable was.
Death, of course, is not a failure. Death is normal. Death may be the enemy, but it is also the natural order of things.
The size of an ending will never offset the inevitability of a beginning.
Success sometimes may be defined as a disaster put on hold. Qualified. Has to be.
So one must be resigned to being a clock that measures the passage of time, now out of order, now repaired, and whose mechanism generates despair and love as soon as its maker sets it going? Are we to grow used to the idea that every man relives ancient torments, which are all the more profound because they grow comic with repetition? That human existence should repeat itself, well and good, but that it should repeat itself like a hackneyed tune, or a record a drunkard keeps playing as he feeds coins into the jukebox...
Time after time have nations, ay, and rich and strong nations, learned in the arts, been, and passed away to be forgotten, so that no memory of them remains. This is but one of several; for Time eats up the works of man.
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
Just because an apple falls one hundred times out of a hundred does not mean it will fall on the hundred and first.