The moment I shall fly from death, when, like the dry leaves, the particles of my body shall detach themselves from the centers of life, oh, then! with what joy shall I pass across the universe, as through a sieve, before the mason comes to sift my own dust. 267. That vault of heaven, under which we reel, we might, in thought, liken to a lantern. The universe is the lantern. The sun represents the light, and we, like the images with which the lantern is ornamented, dwell there in stupefaction. 268. Thou hast formed me of earth and of water, what can I do? Whether I be wool or silk, it is Thou that hast woven, and what can I do? The good that I do, the evil that I am guilty of, were alike predestined by Thee; what can I do? 269. O friend, come to me, and let us take no thought of to-day nor to-morrow, but consider our short instant of existence as spoils. To-morrow, when we shall have abandoned this old tent [the world], we shall be the companions of those who left it seven thousand years ago! 270. Never for a moment be deprived of wine, for it is wine that gives reflection to intelligence, to the heart of man and to religion. If the devil had tasted it for one instant, he would have adored Adam and have made before him thousands of genuflections. 271. Arise, dance, and we shall clap our hands. Drink to the presence of beauties with the languorous eyes of the narcissus. Happiness is not very great when one has emptied but a score of cups; it is strangely complete when one arrives at the sixtieth. 272. I have shut upon myself the door of avarice, and am thus free from obligation to those who are men and those who do not merit the name. Since there exists but one friend [God] toward whom I can extend my hand, I am what I am, and that concerns only Him and me. 273. I am constantly saddened by the motion of this Wheel of the Heavens. I am in revolt against my vile nature. I have neither enough knowledge to hide myself and not return to the world, nor intelligence enough to live there without preoccupying myself with it. 274. How many people that I see upon the surface of the earth are plunged in sleep [superstition]! How many I perceive that are already buried in its depths! When I throw my eyes over this desert of Not-being, how many people I see who have not yet come--how many who have already departed! 275. Thy pity being promised me, I have no fear of sin. With the provision that Thou possessest, I have no disquiet about the journey. Thy benevolence renders my visage white and of the black book I have no fear. 276.