Our life is of woven wind.

Our ideals, like pictures, are made from lights and shadows.

Perhaps, for worldly success, we need virtues that make us loved and faults that make us feared.

Ornaments were invented by modesty.

And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.

Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.

What is this world of ours? A complex entity subject to sudden changes which all indicate a tendency to destruction; a swift succession of beings which follow …