Remember this! No amount of Bacchic reveling can corrupt an honest woman.
Out of some little thing, too free a tongue can make an outrageous wrangle.
Those who have not, and live in want, are a menace, Ridden with envy and fooled by demagogues.
In every work a reward added makes the pleasure twice as great.
I think it makes small difference to the dead, if they are buried in the tokens of luxury. All that is an empty glorification left for those who live.
Stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make.