...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.

There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.

Wine can of their wits the wise beguile, Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile

And would'st thou evil for his good repay?

Oall the creatures that creep and breathe on earth, there is none more wretched than man.

Just once I'd like someone to call me 'Sir' without adding 'You're making a scene.'

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