One of these days is none of these days.
~ H.G. Bohn
Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.
All men have need of the gods.
As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning. So one generation of men will grow while another dies.
It behooves a father to be blameless if he expects his child to be.
And they die an equal death - the idler and the man of mighty deeds.
For fate has wove the thread of life with pain, And twins ev'n from the birth are Misery and Man!
Nothing feebler does earth nurture than man, of all things breathing and moving.
Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing sooner than of war.