Todo lo que existe nace sin razón, se prolonga por debilidad, y muere por casualidad

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance.

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance. I leaned back and closed my eyes. But the images, forewarned, immediately leaped up and filled my closed eyes with existences: existence is a fullness which man can never abandon.

Naître, c'est seulement commencer à mourir.

Nihil est sine ratione.
[There is nothing without a reason.]

On aime sans raison et sans raison l'on hait.

If living is to end in pain, incompleteness, and nothingness, it seems a cruel and futile experience for beings who are born to reason, hope, create, and love.

Le mal se fait sans effort, naturellement, par fatalité; le bien est toujours le produit d'un art.

Things die. All things die.

She was born without reason … to die; and she dies without reason….

Mind is the Maker, for no reason at all, for all this creation, created to fall.

Every being which is endowed with reason, and transgresses its statutes and limitations, is undoubtedly involved in sin by swerving from rectitude and justice.

En exagérant tout, on ne définit rien.