Everything that is superfluous overflows from the full bosom.
The ox longs for the gaudy trappings of the horse; the lazy pack-horse would fain plough. [We envy the position of others, dissatisfied with our own.]
Death is the last limit of all things.
What does it avail you, if of many thorns only one be removed.
Learned or unlearned we all must be scribbling.
Rains driven by storms fall not perpetually on the land already sodden, neither do varying gales for ever disturb the Caspian sea.