When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees
Some go to Church, proud humbly to repent, And come back much more guilty than they went: One way they look, another way they steer, Pray to the Gods; but would have Mortals hear; And when their sins they set sincerely down, They'll find that their Religion has been one.
One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
By all means use some time to be alone.
Take God from nature, nothing great is left.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.