Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
Much learning shows how little mortals know; much wealth, how little wordings enjoy.
Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
A Christian is the highest style of man.
For her own breakfast she’ll project a scheme,Nor take her tea without a strategem.
Too low they build, who build beneath the stars.
The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
They only babble who practise not reflection.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise.
All men think that all men are mortal but themselves.
Friendship’s the wine of life: but friendship new… is neither strong nor pure.
The house of laughter makes a house of woe.
All men think all men mortal, but themselves.
A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
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