Naught is possessed, neither gold, nor land nor love, nor life, nor peace, nor even sorrow nor death, nor yet salvation. Say of nothing: It is mine. Say only: It is with me.

People always make war when they say they love peace

Tragedy is like strong acid -- it dissolves away all but the very gold of truth.

But then peace, peace! I am so mistrustful of it: so much afraid that it means a sort of weakness and giving in.

People always make war when they say they love peace.

Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.