Two urns on Jove's high throne have ever stood, the source of evil one, and one of good; from thence the cup of mortal man he fills, blessings to these, to those distributes ills; to most he mingles both.

youth is quick in feeling but weak in judgement.

Oh, my tattered rags are caught on your coffee table.

And they die an equal death — the idler and the man of mighty deeds.

'T is fortune gives us birth, But Jove alone endues the soul with worth.

[But] age, the common enemy of mankind, has laid his hand upon you; would that it had fallen upon some other, and that you were still young.

Porkchops and bacon, my two favorite animals.