The folly of all follies is to be love sick for a shadow.
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
Though thou wert scattered to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.