But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, for gentle ways are best, and keep aloof from sharp contentions.
Do not beg me by knees or by parents you dog! I only wish I were savagely wrathful enough to hack up your corpse and eat it raw
A hunter of shadows, himself a shade.
It is wrong to be sorry without ceasing.
Wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile
There is satiety in all things, in sleep, and love-making, in the loveliness of singing and the innocent dance.