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Nothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high

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Bowl Drinking Eternal Fill Glass Man Nature Round Sober

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
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The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man’s left to epitomize!
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God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
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Fill all the Glasses there; for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
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Begin, be bold, and venture to be wise, He who defers this work from day to day, Does on a river’s bank expecting stay
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Nay, in death’s hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove’s.
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Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
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This a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
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It is a hard and nice subject for a man to speak of himself: it grates his own heart to say anything of disparagement, and the reader’s ear to hear anything of praise from him.
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Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
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When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
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Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
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:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
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It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
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A mighty pain to love it is, And ’tis a pain that pain to miss; But, of all pains, the greatest pain Is to love, but love in vain.
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Fear Kindly Least Life Love May might Pain Treat

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