An undevout astronomer is mad.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss.

Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving; and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.

What is revenge but courage to call in our honor's debts, and wisdom to convert others' self-love into our own protection?

The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart.

Live now; be damn'd hereafter.

Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; Part with it as with money, sparing; pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds; they can tell.