Your deeds are your monuments.
When given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind
For any one of us, our forever could end in an hour or a hundred years from now. You can never know for sure, so you'd better make every second count. What you have to decide is how you want your life to be. If your forever was ending tomorrow, would this be how you'd want to have spent it?
It's funny how one summer can change everything. It must be something about the heat and the smell of chlorine, fresh-cut grass and honeysuckle, asphalt sizzling after late-day thunderstorms, the steam rising while everything drips around it. Something about long, lazy days and whirring air conditioners and bright plastic flip-flops from the drugstore thwacking down the street. Something about fall being so close, another year.....
To influence a person is to give him one's own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of someone else's music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly--that is what each of us is here for.
--Lord Henry Wotton
The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we should all live--undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands.
Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come. Certain moths live their whole lives in a day, yet to them that little span of time must seem as long as years and decades do to us. An oak may live three hundred years, a redwood tree three thousand. To them seasons pass in the flutter of a moth's wing, and past, present, and future are one.
Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a tree understands, not days and years and centuries. For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak.
All men lie when they are afraid. Some tell many lies, some but a few. Some have only one great lie they tell so often that they almost come to believe it...though some small part of them will always know that it is still a lie, and that will show upon their faces.
--The kindly man