But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest concern of Villon, the Parisian poet.

There are more old drunkards than old physicians.

Death is the vast perhaps.

I do not drink more than a sponge.

If the head is lost, all that perishes is the individual; if the balls are lost, all of human nature perishes.

How can I govern others, who can't even govern myself?

Frugality is for the vulgar.