The borrower runs in his own debt.
People that seem so glorious are all show; underneath they are like everyone else.
Happy is the hearing man; unhappy the speaking man.
Sleep is not, death is not; Who seem to die Live. House you were born in, Friends of your spring-time, old man and young maid, Day's toil and it's guerdon, They are all vanishing, Fleeing to fables, Cannot be moored
The way to mend the bad world is to create the right world.
Things are in the saddle. And ride mankind.