Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
Edward YoungAh! what is human life? How, like the dial's tardy-moving shade, Day after day slides from us unperceiv'd! The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth; Too subtle is the movement to be seen; Yet soon the hour is up--and we are gone.
Edward Young