I live and have my day, my son succeeds me and has his day, his son in turn succeeds him. What is there in all this to make a tragedy about? On the contrary, if I lived for ever the joys of life would inevitably in the end lose their savour. As it is, they remain perennially fresh.
I warmed both hands before the fire;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Source: The Conquest of Happiness, 1930, chap.2：The Byronic unhappiness.
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