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Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.

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Women love the last blow as well as the last word, and when they fight for love they are pitiless as a wounded buffalo.

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It is far. But there is no journey upon this earth that a man may not make if he sets his heart to it. There is nothing, Umbopa, that he cannot do, th...more

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Yet man dies not whilst the world, at once his mother and his monument, remains. His name is lost, indeed, but the breath he breathed still stirs the ...more

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That which is alive hath known death, and that which is dead can never die, for in the Circle of the Spirit life is naught and death is naught. Yea, a...more

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And what, O Queen, are those things that are dear to a man? Are they not bubbles? Is not ambition but an endless ladder by which no height is ever cli...more

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The moon went slowly down in loveliness; she departed into the depth of the horizon, and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the sta...more

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Though the face before me was that of a young woman of certainly not more than thirty years, in perfect health and the first flush of ripened beauty, ...more

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Shall a mangrave his sorrows upon a stone when he hath but need to write them onthe water? Nay, oh /She/, I will live my day, and grow old with mygene...more