The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.

A man of pleasure is a man of pains.

In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom... And age, if it has not esteem, has nothing.

And friend received with thumps upon the back.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

A foe to God ne'er was true friend to man, Some sinister intent taints all he does.

In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom; but he who reflects not, never reaps; has no harvest from it, but carries the burden of age without the wages of experience; nor knows himself old, but from his infirmities, the parish register, and the contempt of mankind. And age, if it has not esteem, has nothing.