Youth lives in the future, middle age in the present, and old age in the past.

The creature gets sick, his weight grows heavier, he has moments when he finds himself too weary to go on; yet on he goes, as long as he lives, on until the end ...

Our life is woven wind.

Life is a tragedy full of joy.

While there is life, there is hope.

A crust and a corner that love makes precious, With a smile to warm and the tears to refresh us; And joy seems sweeter when cares come after, And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter; And that is life.

Life becomes livable only to the extent that death is treated as a friend, never as an enemy.

Some say that life has no form, that it is extremely diffuse. I think I can agree with them. ... A life without conclusions is painful.

Life is like a game of whist. I don't enjoy the game much; but I like to play my cards well, and see what will be the end of it.

... what counts in life usually cannot be counted.