If I could live my life over again, the next time I would try to make more mistakes. I wouldn't try to be so perfect, I'd relax more. I'd be more foolish than I have been; in short, I'd take very few things seriously.
I would be less hygenic. I would take more risks and go on more trips; I'd watch more sunsets, climb mountains, swim more rivers. I'd go to more places I have never been to, eat more ice cream and fewer lima beans. I'd have more real problems and few imaginary ones.
I was not one of those people who lived every moment of his life sensually and abundantly. Of course, I had my happy moments, but if I could go back, I'd try to have only good times. But, in case you don't know it, that's what life is made of...only moments; don't miss out on the NOW.
I was one of those who never went anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, an umbrella and a parachute. If I could live again, I'd travel more lightly.
If I could live again, I'd walk around barefoot from the beginning of spring until the end of autumn. I'd take more spins around the merry-go-round, contemplate more sunrises and play with more children...if I had another life to live. But you see, I'm 85 years old and I'm dying.
-The last poem written by Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges
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