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.

Thou shalt not horn in on thy husbands racket

Nothing feebler does earth nurture than man, Of all things breathing and moving.

Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy.

Nothing shall I, while sane, compare with a friend.

His native home deep imag'd in his soul.

Trying is the first step toward failure.