Men's actions to futurity appear but as the events to which they are conjoined do give them consequence.
Still on it creeps, Each little moment at another's heels, Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up Of such small parts as these, and men look back Worn and bewilder'd, wondering how it is.
O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.
Pampered vanity is a better thing perhaps than starved pride.
The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.
I have seen the day, when, if a man made himself ridiculous, the world would laugh at him. But now, everything that is mean, disgusting, and absurd, pleases them but so much the better!