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All the glory of this world is

rather a matter of fashion than of substance, 

it is a body without a soul,

it is a golden shell without a kernel,

it is a show without a substance. 

There is no firmness, 

there is no solidness, 

there is no consistency, 

there is no constancy in any of the creatures. 

All the pomp, 

and state,

and glory of the world is but a mere 

piece of pageantry, 

a mask, 

a comedy, 

a fantasy.

  • Thomas Brooks, An Ark for All God’s Noahs