It is not permitted that we should know everything.

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold more than mine.

Pale death with an impartial foot knocks at the hovels of the poor and the palaces of king.

Learned or unlearned we all must be scribbling.

The work you are treating is one full of dangerous hazard, and you are treading over fires lurking beneath treacherous ashes.

Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque revenit. You can drive nature out with a pitchfork, she will nevertheless come back.

The miser acquires, yet fears to use his gains.