If a man's character is to be abused there's nobody like a relative to do the business.

In lazy apathy let stoics boast, their virtue fixed, 'tis fixed as in a frost.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.

What is fame? a fancied life in others' breath.

Is there a parson much bemused in beer, a maudlin poetess, a rhyming peer, a clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, who pens a stanza when he should engross?

All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. [and therefore the solution is to fix the jaundiced eye.]

Time conquers all, and we must time obey.