It is not death that we wish to avoid, but life that we wish to live.
It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined.
It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebody else’s life with perfection.[The Bhagavad Gita – that ancient Indian Yogic text]
It is a hard thing to leave any deeply routined life, even if you hate it.
It is a corrupting thing to live one’s real life in secret. One should live with the stream of life, not against it.
It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
Is not life a hundred times too short for us – to bore ourselves?[Ist das Leben nicht hundert Mal zu kurz, sich in ihm – zu langweilen?]
In what life can I trust anything out of your mouth ever again?
In town a man can live for a hundred years without noticing that he has long been dead and has rotted away.[В городе человек может прожить сто лет и не хватиться того, что он давно умер и сгнил.]
In the midst of life we are in death.
In the midst of death we are in life.
In the long run, we shape our lives, and we shape ourselves. The process never ends until we die. And the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.