Pale Death beats equally at the poor man's gate and at the palaces of kings.
The miser acquires, yet fears to use his gains.
It is not enough that poetry is agreeable, it should also be interesting.
Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?
Posterity, thinned by the crime of its ancestors, shall hear of those battles.
If a man's fortune does not fit him, it is like the shoe in the story; if too large it trips him up, if too small it pinches him.