I care for riches, to make gifts.
The day is for honest men, the night for thieves.
We know the good, we apprehend it clearly; but we can't bring it to achievement.
To die with glory, if one has to die at all, is still, I think, pain for the dier.
The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, Is that which rages in the place of dearest love.
Death is what men want when the anguish of living is more than they can bear.