“Between two worlds life hovers like a star,'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's vergeHow little we know that which we are!How less we may be!”

“Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.”

“We are little flames poorly sheltered by frail walls against the storm of dissolution and madness, in which we flicker and sometimes almost go out…we creep in upon ourselves and with big eyes stare into the night…and thus we wait for morning.”

“We love the morning, because we know that there will be night soon! We love the night, because we know that there will be morning soon! Who loves the morning if there shall be no night? Who loves the night if there shall be no morning?”

“The world, whatever we might think about it terrified by its vastness and by our helplessness in the face of it, embittered by its indifference to individual suffering—of people, animals, and perhaps also plants, for how can we be sure that plants are free of suffering; whatever we might think about its spaces pierced by the radiation of stars, stars around which we now have begun to discover planets, already dead? still dead?—we don’t know; whatever we might think about this immense theater, to which we may have a ticket, but it is valid for a ridiculously brief time, limited by two decisive dates; whatever else we might think about this world—it is amazing.”

“We may get to know the world however we choose, it will always keep a day and night aspect.”