Ten years ago she split the air To seize what she could spy Tonight she bumps against a chair, Betrayed by milky eye. She seems to pant, Time up, time up! My little dog must die, And lie in dust with Hector's pup; I So, presently, must I.
One man's remorse is another man's reminiscence.
Middle-aged life is merry, and I love to lead it.
Life is not having been told that the man has just waxed the floor.
God in His wisdom made the fly And then forgot to tell us why.
The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late.