Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st Live well; how long or short permit to Heaven.

Of all human foibles love of living is the most powerful.

The great business of life is to be, to do, to do without, and to depart.

Life is the only art that we are required to practice without preparation, and without being allowed the preliminary trials, the failures and botches, that are essential for the training of a mere beginner.

Life is strewn with so many dangers, and can be the source of so many misfortunes, that death is not the greatest of them.

We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving.

Life is the external text, the burning bush by the edge of the path from which God speaks.

Between us and heaven or hell there is only life, which is the frailest thing in the world.

Fate loves to invent patterns and designs. Its difficulty lies in complexity. But life itself is difficult because of its simplicity. It has only a few things of a grandeur not fit for us.

"Does the road wind up-hill all the way?" "Yes, to the very end." "Will the day's journey take the whole long day?" "From morn to night, my friend."