“O friend, for the morrow let us not worryThis moment we have now, let us not hurryWhen our time comes, we shall not tarryWith seven thousand-year-olds, our burden carry”

“This worldthat was our homefor a brief spellnever brought us anythingbut pain and grief;its a shame that not one of our problemswas ever solved.We departwith a thousand regretsin our hearts.”

“Would you be happy! hearken, then, the way:Heed not to-morrow, heed not yesterday;The magic words of life are here and now -O fools, that after some to-morrow stray!”

“We shall perishalong the path of Love.Fate will trample us. Yeah, temptingyoung woman, get up and give me your lipsbefore I return to dust.”

“Empty orators and silent scholarsdied without having understood Being and non-Being.Ignorants, my brothers, let us continue tastingthe juice of the grape attentively and letthe authorities satisfy themselveswith dry raisins.”

“Where is an intimate friend who’ll hear the secret from me straight out– of what human beings have been from the moment they began? They are born of toil and molded from the clay of sorrow.They wander the world for a time, then set off.”

“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into the Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lieSans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!Alike for those who for To-day prepare,And those that after some To-morrow stare,A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.”