Time destroyed Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.

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

The booby father craves a booby son, And by Heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, how complicate, how wonderful is man! Distinguished link in being's endless chain! Midway from nothing to the Deity! Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! A frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! Insect infinite! A worm! A God!

The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done

What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.