The only time you run out of chances is when you stop taking them
Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.
What is fame? a fancied life in others' breath.
When I die, I should be ashamed to leave enough to build me a monument if there were a wanting friend above ground. I would enjoy the pleasure of what I give by giving it alive and seeing another enjoy it.
Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?