Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a fast-flitting meteor
Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a fast-flitting meteor a fast-flying cloud A flash of the lightning a break of the wave He passes from life to his rest in the grave.
This love of theirs, with its reassuring domesticity and its easy silences,
This love of theirs, with its reassuring domesticity and its easy silences, its permanence, has yoked Sally directly to the machinery of mortality itself. Now there is a loss beyond imagining.
Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
The great art of life is to moderate our passions. Objects of affection are
The great art of life is to moderate our passions. Objects of affection are like other belongings. We must love them enough to enrich our lives while we have them, not enough to impoverish our lives when they are gone.