The art of living does not consist
in preserving and clinging
to a particular mood of happiness,
but in allowing happiness
to change its form without
being disappointed by the change;
for happiness, like a child,
must be allowed to grow up.
Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.
Tiny drops of water
Little grains of sands
Make the mighty Oceans
And the pleasant Lands
And the passing moments
Humble though they be
Make the mighty ages of Eternity
