What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach, 'Tis an implicit satire on mankind; And while it satisfies, it censures too.
Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled.
A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
Take God from nature, nothing great is left.
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!