You can't do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth.
-H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
The birds chaunt melody on every bush,
The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a checkered shadow on the ground;
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise;
And after conflict such as was supposed
The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed,
When with a happy storm they were surprised,
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave,
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber,
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
~William Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus (Tamora at II, iii)~
The heart was made to be broken
- Oscar Wilde. Irish Poet, Novelist, Dramatist and Critic, 1854-1900