Wit Is The God Of Moments, But

A Blockhead Cannot Come In, Nor Go Away, Nor Sit, Nor Rise, Nor Stand, Like A Man Of Sense.

We Seek Our Happiness Outside Ourselves, And In The Opinion Of Men We Know To Be Flatterers, Insincere, Unjust, Full Of Envy, Caprice And Prejudice.

We Are More Sociable, And Get On Better With People By The Heart Than The Intellect.

Life Is A Kind Of Sleep: Old Men Sleep Longest, Nor Begin To Wake But When They Are To Die.

We Dread Old Age, Which Are Not Sure Of Being Able To Attain. [fr., L'on Craint La Vieillesse, Que L'on N'est Pas Sur De Pouvoir Atteindre.]