Now the peak of summer's past, the sky is overcast / And the love we swore would last for an age seems deceit.

I always assumed everybody shared my love for overcast skies. It came as a shock to find out that some people prefer sunshine.

Gratitude looks to the Past and love to the Present; fear, avarice, lust, and ambition look ahead.

I can't re-examine work I did in the past with pride.

How incessant and great are the ills with which a prolonged old age is replete.

At a certain age it just became apparent to me that this was probably the work that I would have to do.