You must avoid sloth, that wicked siren.
Not treasured wealth, nor the consul's lictor, can dispel the mind's bitter conflicts and the cares that flit, like bats, about your fretted roofs.
It is not enough that poetry is agreeable, it should also be interesting.
Having no business of his own to attend to, he busies himself with the affairs of others.
No, but you're wrong now, and always will be.
Oh! thou who are greatly mad, deign to spare me who am less mad.