It’s never been my experience that men part with life any more readily at eighty than they do at eighteen.
Noon one may keep as one will, but evening sets in on its own account.
Live as you will wish to have lived when you are dying.
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.
Dante says that the journey begins right here. In the middle of the road. Right beneath your feet. This is the place. There is no other place and no other time. Even if you are successful and follow the road you have set yourself, you can never leave here. Despite everything you have achieved, life refuses to grant you immunity from its difficulties. Becoming aware of this after a lifetime of accepting success as the ultimate healing balm is, declares Dante, like waking up in a dark wood.
