Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit, And look on death itself!
Come what come may, time and the hour run through the roughest day.
Receive what cheer you may. The night is long that never finds the day.
Nothing in his life became him like leaving it.
It's a long ride home with nothing but me for company. I bore myself sometimes. Not often. Just now and again.
What's done cannot be undone.
In their vanity men focus on what they wish to hear and miss the hidden meaning, the lurking threat.
