But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

If there 's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it; A chiel 's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he 'll prent it.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min?

Ambition is a meteor-gleam; Fame a restless airy dream; Pleasures, insects on the wing Round Peace, th' tend rest flow'r of spring.

A women can make an average man great, and a great man average.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe.