Writing the first 90 percent of a computer program takes 90 percent of the time. The remaining ten percent also takes 90 percent of the time and the final touches also take 90 percent of the time...
Phone Number *** - **** 1161
Birthday03 October 1978
Address Mcclellan Rd No: 1161
M Raja Online Statistics
M Raja have a 5 following and 1 followers. M Raja's world rankings is 35979. This page is based on M Raja's online data & informations. You can find information birth date, place of residence, phone number, address and social media accounts on M Raja's page.
About M Raja
As from the vapours of the east The sun o'er morning's twilight steals, So truth illumes the pious breast, When man his inmost soul unveils: When the still monitor within Holds meet communion with his heart, And self-approval gilds the scene, As hours and days and weeks depart. How wise, departing weeks to call To stern inquiry's solemn bar, And take a strict account of all! For all in heaven recorded are: The talents lost-the moments run To waste-the sins of act, of thought, Ten thousand deeds of folly done, And countless virtues cherished not. A towering spirit, born of heaven, And tending up to heaven again, By earthly cares and errors driven, And chain'd to all those errors vain; A temple worthy of a God, Degraded to an earth-worm's cell; A soul sublime-become a clod, Dark, heavy and insensible. Can such a reckoning then appal, To the heart's secret inquest given? How dreadful-if unveil'd to all Th' assembled hosts of earth and heaven! Deceive thee not, vain man! for so Shall time thy inmost self declare, And the great day of days shall show Each vice thou wrapp'st so fondly here. Delusion! rend the shading veil; Hypocrisy! come forth-and, pride! Thy naked form no more conceal; Come, fierce intolerance! nor hide Thy serpent-sting in folds of zeal, In pious words thy tiger-tooth! Come forth, ye long-mask'd fiends! and feel The all-discovering touch of truth. How many fancied saints, that wear Self-gratulation's starry dress, Shall stand unrobed-astonish'd there, In trembling, tottering nakedness! How many a humble one, whose eye Scarce dares look up to heaven's bright throne, Shall bear the robes of majesty, And put the golden garland on!