He conquers who endures.

But when to-morrow comes, yesterday's morrow will have been already spent: and lo! a fresh morrow will be for ever making away with our years, each just beyond our grasp.

The man who wishes to bend me with his tale of woe must shed true tears - not tears that have been got ready overnight.

I know you even under the skin.

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.

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.

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