Happiness is brief. It will not stay. God batters at its sails.
Youth holds no society with grief.
The stillest tongue can be the truest friend.
When good men die their goodness does not perish, But lives though they are gone. As for the bad, All that was theirs dies and is buried with them.
It is better that we live ever so Miserably than die in glory.
Delusive hope still points to distant good.