Explore Quotes by Thomas Love Peacock

He kept at true good humor's mark The social flow of pleasure's tide: He never made a brow look dark, Nor caused a tear, but when he died.

Time, the foe of man's dominion,_x000D__x000D_Wheels around in ceaseless flight,_x000D__x000D_Scattering from his hoary pinion_x000D__x000D_Shades of everlasting night.

Time is lord of thee:_x000D__x000D_Thy wealth, thy glory, and thy name are his.

Man yields to death; and man's sublimest works_x000D__x000D_Must yield at length to Time.

The present is our own; but while we speak,_x000D__x000D_We cease from its possession, and resign_x000D__x000D_The stage we tread on, to another race,_x000D__x000D_As vain, and gay, and mortal as ourselves.

But though first love's impassioned blindness Has passed away in colder light, I still have thought of you with kindness, And shall do, till our last goodnight. The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers Will be an hundred years ago.