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In youth, what disappointments of our own making: in age, what disappointments from the nature of things.
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All men think all men mortal but themselves.
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The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art,Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart.
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Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew,She sparkled, was exhal'd and went to heaven.
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'I've lost a day!'-the prince who nobly cried,Had been an emperor without his crown.
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The spirit walks of every day deceased.
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Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes;They love a train, they tread each other’s heel.
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Titles are marks of honest men, and wise;The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
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Friendship's the wine of life; but friendship new(Not such was his) is neither strong nor pure.
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A man of pleasure is a man of pains.
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The chamber where the good man meets his fateIs privileg’d beyond the common walkOf virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
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A God all mercy is a God unjust.
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A death-bed ’s a detector of the heart.
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Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
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While man is growing, life is in decrease;And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.Our birth is nothing but our death begun.
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An undevout astronomer is mad.
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A soul without reflection, like a pileWithout inhabitant, to ruin runs.
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To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.
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Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote,And think they grow immortal as they quote.
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He weeps! the falling drop puts out the sun; He sighs! the sigh earth's deep foundation shakes. If in His love so terrible, what then His wrath inflamed?
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’Tis impious in a good man to be sad
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They that on glorious ancestors enlarge,Produce their debt instead of their discharge.
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Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt,And oftener chang'd their principles than shirt.
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Great let me call him, for he conquered me.