Some People Spend The Day In Complaining

The Day Is For Mistake And Error, Sequence Of Time For Success And Carrying Out. The One Who Anticipates Is Master Of The Day.

Old Age Is Never Honored Among Us, But Only Indulged, As Childhood Is; And Old Men Lose One Of The Most Precious Rights Of Man,--that Of Being Judged By Their Peers.

Man's Restlessness Makes Him Strive.

Moral Epochs Have Their Course As Well As The Seasons. We Can No More Hold Them Fast Than We Can Hold Sun, Moon, And Stars. Our Faults Perpetually Return Upon Us; And Herein Lies The Subtlest Difficulty Of Self-knowledge.

Lord Byron Is Only Great As A Poet; As Soon As He Reflects He Is A Child.