Continual dropping wears away a stone.
What is food to one man may be fierce poison to others.
In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
Nothing can be created out of nothing.
The fall of dropping water wears away the stone.
For piety lies not in being often seen turning a veiled head to stones, nor in approaching every altar, nor in lying prostrate...before the temples of the gods, nor in sprinkling altars with the blood of beasts...but rather in being able to look upon all things with a mind at peace.
Life is one long struggle in the dark.