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Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And out hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled read more
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And out hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
Busily engaged in doing nothing. [A squirrel in a cage.]
Busily engaged in doing nothing. [A squirrel in a cage.]
Poverty needs much, avarice everything.
Poverty needs much, avarice everything.
A man perfect to the finger tips.
A man perfect to the finger tips.
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!
Crime oft recoils upon the author's head.
Crime oft recoils upon the author's head.
He that praiseth himselfe spattereth himselfe.
He that praiseth himselfe spattereth himselfe.
The hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the
greater hides the less.
The hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the
greater hides the less.
Fortune to one is Mother, to another is Step-mother.
Fortune to one is Mother, to another is Step-mother.
