There is no road, the road is made by walking.
Death is something we don't have to fear, since as long as we exist death doesn't and when it does we don't.
By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind sees the path
The afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring, I am alone in the quiet patio looking for some old untried illusion - some shadow on the whiteness of the wall some memory asleep on the stone rim of the fountain, perhaps in the air the light swish of some trailing gown.
Pathmaker, there is no path; You make the path by walking, By walking you make the Path
My philosophy is fundamentally sad, but I'm not a sad man, and I don't believe I sadden anyone else.
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