Long life (n.) needs only Fate; right living needs the soul.
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A Long life (n.) includes all these troubles, just as a long journey includes dust and mud and rain.
A Long life (n.) buys nothing: those who clung to life longest — who buried many — were buried at last too.
A Long life (n.) asked for as more sensation, more appetite, more growing and shrinking, or more talk, offers none of these as a worthy object of desire.
A Long life (n.) is a gamble: few reach death intact when old age drags on, and there is no crueller loss than losing the power to end one's life.
A Long life (n.) would merely prolong a game of unceasing war with troubles; a species living eight hundred years would let its vices grow until it deserved to be wiped off the earth.
A Long life (n.) of the wrong kind is like the Annals of Tanusius — bulky, and you know what men say of it; some books of very few lines are admirable.
A Long life (n.) depends neither on years nor days but on the mind: I have lived long enough; I have had my fill; I await death.