Fiction intended to please, should resemble truth as much as possible.
Poets are never allowed to be mediocre by the gods, by men or by publishers.
People hiss at me, but I applaud myself in my own house, and at the same time contemplate the money in my chest.
An undertaking beset with danger.
No man is born without faults.
The mob may hiss me, but I congratulate myself while I contemplate my treasures in their hoard.