It is very certain that the desire of life prolongs it.
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- Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge.
- When one subtracts from life infancy (which is vegetation), sleep, eating and swilling, buttoning and unbuttoning — how much remains of downright existence? The summer of a dormouse.
- I have had, and may have still, a thousand friends, as they are called, in life, who are like one’s partners in the waltz of this world –not much remembered when the ball is over.
- The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
- What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of seed which may be spilt in a whore’s lap, or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream, might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Bonaparte — there is nothing remarkable recorded of their sires, that I know of.
- Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, and yet a third of life is passed in sleep.