As soon as we have found the key of life, it opens the gates of death.

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

Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!

One to destroy, is murder by the law; and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.

Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.

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.

A strange alternative * * *Must women have a doctor or a dance?