[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.

Sleep and Death, who are twin brothers.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,- Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise.

Blame the guy who doesn't speak Engish.

What so tedious as a twice-told tale?

And woe succeeds woe.

A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.