Be wise to-day; 't is madness to defer.
Angels are men of a superior kind; Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform and mortal men lay hold on heaven.
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.
Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
[The] public path of life Is dirty.