Oh, the cares of men! how much emptiness there is in human concerns!

Is then thy knowledge of no value, unless another know that thou possessest that knowledge?

Lives there the man with soul so dead as to disown the wish to merit the people's applause, and having uttered words worthy to be kept in cedar oil to latest times, to leave behind him rhymes that dread neither herrings nor frankincense.

Our life is our own to-day, to-morrow you will be dust, a shade, and a tale that is told. Live mindful of death; the hour flies.

Out of nothing can come, and nothing can become nothing.

We consume our tomorrows fretting about our yesterdays.

You pray for good health and a body that will be strong in old age. Good-but your rich foods block the gods' answer and tie Jupiter's hands.