What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.

You couldn't have strength without weakness, you couldn't have light without dark, you couldn't have love without loss

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.

December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory...

Strength and success - they are above morality, above criticism. It seems, then, that it is not what you do, but how you do it and what you call it. Is there a check in men, deep in them, that stops or punishes? There doesn't seem to be. The only punishment is for failure. In effect no crime is committed unless a criminal is caught.

A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn't mean in winter.