The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, Is that which rages in the place of dearest love.
Surely again, to heal men's wounds by music's spell.
Among mortals second thoughts are wisest.
He is not a lover who does not love forever.
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.
Who cannot open an honest mind No friend will he be of mine.