The image of the flowing sand made an indescribably exciting impact on the man. The barrenness of sand, as it is usually pictured, was not caused by simple dryness, but apparently was due to the ceaseless movement that made it inhospitable to all living things. What a difference compared with the dreary way human beings clung together year in year out.
Year after year students tumble along like the waters of a river. They flow away, and only the teacher is left behind, like some deeply buried rock at the bottom of the current.
Defeat begins with the fear that one has lost.
Time cannot be spurred on like a horse.
The thorn of death falls from heaven, and its myriad forms leave us no room to move.
Work seemed something fundamental for man, something which enabled him to endure the aimless flight of time.
Yet there seemed to be some truth in the law of probability, according to which the chance of success is directly proportionate to the number of repetitions.
It's a dangerous dog that doesn't bark.
No man can get along without some sort of plaything.
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