Men before you have quit smoking - you can too!

O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.

The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.

'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.

Nothing in Nature, much less conscious being, Was e'er created solely for itself.

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.

When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees