And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help-for it As impotently moves as you or I

Dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.

My friend, let's not think of tomorrow, but let's enjoy this fleeting moment of life.

There was a door to which I found no key: There was the veil through which I might not see.

We are in truth but pieces on this chess board of life, which in the end we leave, only to drop one by one into the grave of nothingness.

Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.

Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell nor yet surmise; Pass, therefore, not today in vain, For it will never come again.