Life is an onion which one peels crying.

There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval.

Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.

If so far we have been unable to see clearly or to reflect the eternal lineaments of truth, is it not because we too are still moving towards some end-because we are still alive?

... life falls into place only with God.

Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own.

Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle, curved tunnels of leaf miners on the face of a leaf.

Life, unlike the inanimate, will take the long way round to circumvent barrenness. A kind of desperate will resides even in a root.

Life is short, but its ills make it seem long.

Life's neither a good nor an evil: it's a field for good and evil.