At thirty, man suspects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.
We see time's furrows on another's brow, And death intrench'd, preparing his assault; How few themselves in that just mirror see!
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
A friend is worth all hazards we can run.
Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!
The man that makes a character, makes foes.