Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?
Yet smelt roast meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper, which makes bank credit like a bark of vapour.
I deny nothing, but doubt everything.
It is true from early habit, one must make love mechanically as one swims; I was once very fond of both, but now as I never swim unless I tumble into the water, I don't make love till almost obliged.
If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.