A God all mercy is a God unjust.

Live now; be damn'd hereafter.

This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun, Those skies, thro' which it rolls, must all have end. What then is man? The smallest part of nothing.

When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.

The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.

Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat defects of judgment, and the will subdue; walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore of that vast ocean it must sail so soon.

Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled.