A mass of dust, world's momentary slave, Is man, in state of our old Adam made, Soon born to die, soon flourishing to fade.
“I live to hail that season by gifted one foretold, when men shall live by reason, and not alone by gold.”
“There are absolutely no problems between me, my dad and my sister. Obviously I grew up with just my mum, but my relationship with my dad is just fine.”