I court not the votes of the fickle mob.

Mountains will go into labour, and a silly little mouse will be born.

He who is greedy is always in want.

Take subject matter equal to your powers, and ponder long, what your shoulders cannot bear, and what they can.

Imagine every day to he 5 the last6 of a life surrounded with hopes, cares, anger, and fear. The hours, that come unexpectedly, will be so much the more grateful.

Not even for an hour can you bear to be alone, nor can you advantageously apply your leisure time, but you endeavor, a fugitive and wanderer, to escape from yourself, now vainly seeking to banish remorse by wine, and now by sleep; but the gloomy companion presses on you, and pursues you as you fly.

Content with his past life, let him take leave of life like a satiated guest.