That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.

Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.

I do not like the man who squanders life for fame; give me the man who living makes a name.

Remember if you marry for beauty, thou bindest thyself all thy life for that which perchance, will neither last nor please thee one year: and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of no price at all.

Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.

'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand when we with daisies lie, that commerce will continue, and trades as briskly fly