Born in June 1, 1683 / Died in April 5, 1765 / United Kingdom / English
Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform.
By night an atheist half believes in a God.
There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.
Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
Much learning shows how little mortals know; much wealth, how little wordings enjoy.
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
All men think that all men are mortal but themselves.
None think the great unhappy, but the great.
The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done.
Wonder is involuntary praise.
The purpose firm is equal to the deed.
Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise.
Wise it is to comprehend the whole.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
Too low they build who build below the skies.
A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
A friend is worth all hazards we can run.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.
Still seems it strange, that thou shouldst live forever? Is it less strange, that thou shouldst live at all? This is a miracle; and that no more.
Virtue alone has majesty in death.
Wishing of all employments is the worst.
By all means use some time to be alone.
The course of Nature is the art of God.
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