Miserable mortals who like leaves at one moment flame with life eating the produce of the land and at another moment weakly perish.

I, for one, know of no sweeter sight for a man's eyes than his own country.

The best things beyond their measure cloy.

Words empty as the wind are best left unsaid.

The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.

I would rather be a serf in a poor man's house and be above ground than reign among the dead.

I'll get out of this city alive, even if it kills me!