All the ills of mankind, all the tragic misfortunes that fill the history books, all the political blunders, all the failures of the great leaders have arisen merely from a lack of skill at dancing.
Some of the most famous books are the least worth reading. Their fame was due to their having done something that needed to be doing in their day. The work is done and the virtue of the book has expired.
Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave’s a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.
