Putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches away each day as it comes, and denies us the present by promising the future.
The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today.
You are arranging what lies in Fortune’s control, and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at? To what goal are you straining?
The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.
Love the earth and the sun and animals.
Give alms to everyone that asks.
Stand up for the stupid and the crazy.
Devote your income and labors to others.
Argue not concerning God.
Have patience and indulgence towards the people.
Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men.
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and mothers of families.
Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book.
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul…and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency, not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.
It’s better to burn out than to fade away...It’s better to burn out than it is to rust...
Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part.
Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the flesh; it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and arteries.
See the breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air, and not always the same, but every moment sent out and again sucked in.
The third then is the ruling part: consider thus: Thou art an old man; no longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the strings like a puppet to unsocial movements, no longer either be dissatisfied with thy present lot, or shrink from the future.
For the present is the only thing of which a man can be deprived, if it is true that this is the only thing which he has, and that a man cannot lose a thing if he has it not.
Remember that all is opinion.
The whole lesson of my life has been that no ‘methods of stimulation’ are of any lasting use.
They are indeed like drugs—a stronger dose is needed each time and soon no possible dose is effective.
We must not bother about thrills at all.
Do the present duty—bear the present pain—enjoy the present pleasure—and leave emotions and ‘experiences’ to look after themselves. That’s the programme, isn’t it?
I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone.
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity.
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea.
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.
Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind (all we are is dust in the wind).
This day is before me. The circumstances of this day are my environment; they are the material out of which, by means of my brain, I have to live and be happy and to refrain from causing unhappiness in other people.
It is the business of my brain to make use of this material. My brain is in its box for that sole purpose.
Not to-morrow! Not next year! Not when I have made my fortune! Not when my sick child is out of danger! Not when my wife has returned to her senses! Not when my salary is raised! Not when I have passed that examination! Not when my indigestion is better! But "now!"
To-day, exactly as to-day is! The facts of to-day, which in my unregeneracy I regarded primarily as anxieties, nuisances, impediments, I now regard as so much raw material from which my brain has to weave a tissue of life that is comely.