Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm.

Every man regards his own life as the New Year's Eve of time.

The more sand that has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.

Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear. What has puzzled us before seems less mysterious, and the crooked paths look straighter as we approach the end.

Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.