Wisdom is the abstract of the past, but beauty is the promise of the future.
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Every event that a man would master must be mounted on the run, and no man ever caught the reins of a thought except as it galloped past him.
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