My days are swifter than a runner; they flee away, they see no good. They go by like skiffs of reed, like an eagle swooping on the... prey.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
A mortal, born of woman, few of days and full of trouble, comes up like a flower and withers, flees like a shadow and does not las...t.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There is a place where we are always alone with our own mortality, where we must simply have something greater than ourselves to h...old onto--God or history or politics or literature or a belief in the healing power of love, or even righteous anger.... A reason to believe, a way to take the world by the throat and insist that there is more to this life than we have ever imagined.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »