How base a thing it is when a man will struggle with necessity! We have to die.

The variety of all things forms a pleasure.

Greatness brings no profit to people. God indeed, when in anger, brings greater ruin to great mens houses.

He is life's liberating force. He is release of limbs and communion through dance. He is laughter, and music in flutes. He is repose from all cares -- he is sleep! When his blood bursts from the grape and flows across tables laid in his honor to fuse with our blood, he gently, gradually, wraps us in shadows of ivy-cool sleep.

What we look for does not come to pass; God finds a way for what none foresaw.

Prosperity is full of friends.

The childless escape much misery.