No one lives in the past forever; nostalgia exists because we are still young.
Don't take yourself too seriously; no one else does.
True light is not the absence of darkness, but being unhidden by it. True heroism is not the absence of baseness, but not succumbing to it.
Once, we were the most tender souls in the world, bowing for a flower, pausing for a cloud, and being moved by a raindrop.
Measure a person's worth by how they behave when they hold power.
Every cloud is lost, and every moon disappears.
We hate someone because we are too similar; we love someone because we are too similar. Some words remain unspoken, and so does he.
He is still too young to know that memories tend to erase the bad and exaggerate the good, and it is this mystery that allows us to bear the burden of the past.
Since becoming an adult, I have never wished for any freed friend to be reborn.
Everything in life cannot be possessed, only experienced. Gains and losses, hidden and revealed, are all scenery and emotion.
I could feel at peace even among ghosts in hell; I could leave whenever I pleased. This is the freedom held in the heart of a solitary wanderer like me.
To see through human nature without being worldly, to remain pure after losing innocence, and to stay kind despite encountering coldness.
Accepting one thing and rejecting another is essentially the same.
Perhaps the most beautiful parts of our lives will always belong to the past.
A single thought can light a thousand candles.
Snow is cold, clear, pure, and beautiful; it lingers in the mind, much like our hearts at some level.
Style is almost unconscious. A person's style is the shape of their soul, and their words are the unconscious expression of that soul. It cannot be learned or changed.
I am naturally cold-hearted; how could I warm others?
Without faith, one cannot know truth, goodness, or justice.
When prophets defend the law, the people are indifferent; but once the prophets are gone, fervor follows.
We feel the shadow of truth, yet we only hold onto lies.
The characteristic of a sick society is simple: it provides too much for biological needs, yet leaves the spirit starving.
I think the cruelty of the world is not the passage of time, but the gradual fading of old emotions, as if they never existed.
Once a person has pursuits, time flies like an arrow and years pass like a shuttle.
