Astrology, the noblest of sciences.

The more perfect a thing is, the more susceptible to good and bad treatment it is.

They yearn for what they fear for.

Worldly fame is but a breath of wind that blows now this way, and now that, and changes name as it changes direction.

Midway along the journey of our life I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path. How hard it is to tell what it was like, this wood of wilderness, savage and stubborn (the thought of it brings back all my old fears), a bitter place! Death could scarce be bitterer. But if I would show the good that came of it I must talk about things other than the good.

There's not the least thing can be said or done, but people will talk and find fault.

What shall one do with the verse, if he knows not That?