The scum that rises upmost, when the nation boils.
Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son.
Deathless laurel is the victor's due.
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy.
Confidence is the feeling we have before knowing all the facts