I'm not a prophet or a stone aged man, just a mortal with potential of a superman. I'm living on.
I don't have too much faith in destiny, or an afterlife. This is it.
In this mortal life, nothing is blessed throughout.
There is no way to escape death, it is just like trying to escape by four great mountains touching sky. There is no escape from these four mountains of birth, old age, sickness and death.
A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun.
We mortals with immortal minds are only born for sufferings and joys, and one could almost say that the most excellent receive joy through sufferings.
Better a life like a falling star, brief bright across the dark, than the long, long waiting of the immortals, loveless and cheerlessly wise.
Living is death; dying is life. We are not what we appear to be. On this side of the grave we are exiles, on that citizens; on this side orphans, on that children.
Nobody's perfect. We're all just one step up from the beasts and one step down from the angels.
Life was a pre-death experience.
Fear holds dominion over mortality Only because, seeing in land and sky So much the cause whereof no wise they know, Men think Divinities are working there.
Humanity, divine limitation; Divinity, human perfection.
I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not.
Only He who really lived a human life (and I presume that only one did) can fully taste the horror of death.
Man with his burning soul Has but an hour of breath To build a ship of Truth In which his soul may sail- Sail on the sea of death. For death takes toll Of beauty, courage, youth, Of all but Truth.
Zeus it seems has given us from youth to old age a nice ball of wool to wind-nothing but wars upon wars until we shall perish every one.
The way we are living, timorous or bold, will have been our life.
So all of these things are going on that make you wake up and realize you are a mortal person. You can choose to cruise through your life, but if you do, you're going to open your eyes at some point, and it's gone.
Either the soul is immortal and we shall not die, or it perishes with the flesh and we shall not know that we are dead. Live, then, as if you were eternal.
This life at best is but an inn, And we the passengers.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.
And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.
Whether you think of it as heavenly or as earthly, if you love life immortality is no consolation for death.
The fever called "living" Is conquer'd at last.
Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.
