Remorse is violent dyspepsia of the mind.
How confusing the beams from memory's lamp are; One day a bachelor, the next a grampa. What is the secret of the trick? How did I get so old so quick?
No man is greater than his respect for sleep.
Man is a victim of dope in the incurable form of hope.
The burnt child, urged by rankling ire, Can hardly wait to get back at the fire.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons, or Celts, Can't seem just to say anything is the thing it is but have to go out of their way to say that it is like something else.