A world of wonderland made of many pleasures
A paradise at fingertips, packed with all the treasures
The poverty of the mind, empty of all previous worries
All are sleeping soundly as death towards us hurries
To die at sixty or at eighty is harder than at ten or at thirty. Habituation to life, there’s the rub. For life is a vice – the greatest one of all. Which explains why we have so much difficulty ridding ourselves of it.
Emil Cioran
1994ever 