I'd like to grow very old as slowly as possible.

Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.

O money, money, how blindly thou hast been worshipped, and how stupidly abused! Thou are health and liberty and strength, and he that has thee may rattle his pockets at the foul fiend!

If thou would'st have me sing and play As once I play'd and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung.

What have I gained by health? Intolerable dullness. What by mode meals? A total blank.

The red-letter days, now become, to all intents and purposes, dead-letter days.

Gone before To that unknown and silent shore.