Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields of his fathers, free from all anxieties of gain.
Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.
Of writing well the source and fountainhead is wise thinking.
Lightning strikes the tops of the mountains.
No, but you're wrong now, and always will be.
He is always a slave who cannot live on little.