Leisure is pain; take off our chariot wheels; how heavily we drag the load of life!
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.
Each moment has its sickle, emulous Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root.
Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
Nothing but what astonishes is true.
The purpose firm is equal to the deed