“Cease partiicipation, if only for one day this year --- if only to make sure that we don't lose forever the rare and vanishing human talent of appreciating ease.”

“Humans fear death so much, but there is no death,” he whispers. “There is only the illusion of it. We can never cease to be. We must stay like this. Forever.”

“I only regret that everybody wants to deprive me of the journal, which is the only steadfast friend I have, the only one which makes my life bearable, because my happiness with human beings is so precarious, my confiding moods rare, and the least sign of non-interest is enough to silence me. In the journal I am at ease.”

“Don't be fooled by the calendar. There are only as many days in the year as you make use of. One man gets only a week's value out of a year, while another man gets a full year's value out of a week.”

“You will die. You will not live forever. Nor will any man nor any thing. Nothing is immortal. But only to us is it given to know that we must die. And that is a great gift: the gift of selfhood. For we have only what we know we must lose, what we are willing to lose... That selfhood which is our torment, and our treasure, and our humanity, does not endure. It changes; it is gone, a wave on the sea. Would you have the sea grow still and the tides cease, to save one wave, to save yourself?”

“Don't be fooled by the calendar. There are only as many days in the year as you make use of.”