I bought a house on a one-way dead-end road. I don’t know how I got there.

I learned (what I suppose I really knew already) that one can never go back, that one should not ever try to go back — that the essence of life is going forward. Life is really a One Way Street, isn’t it?

Life is a narrow valley, and the roads run close together

This life is but a pilgrimage.

Death is the only limit to the road you travel.

There's only one direction you can coast.

Life ... is only heavy and none else; there is only the one trip, all heavy. Heavy that leads to the grave. For everyone and everything.

Life is the flight of the alone to the alone.

the road is life

Life is unrest, and its passage at best a zigzag course, that only straightens to a direct line when viewed across the years.

The only journey is the one within.

Life is lived forward but is judged in reverse.

The sure path can only lead to death.

There were many ways down Mount Fuji, according to my guidebook, but only one way up. Life lesson in that, I thought.