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

Men before you have quit smoking - you can too!

The bell strikes One. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours.

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.

Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.

Ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.

By all means use some time to be alone.