There are some vile and contemptible men who, allowing themselves to be conquered by misfortune, seek a refuge in death.
Even God cannot change the past.
Of this alone, even god is deprived, the power of making things that are past never to have been.
Art is in love with luck, and luck with art.
The improvement of the mind improves the heart and corrects the understanding.
This only is denied even to God: the power to undo the past.