In going abroad we change the climate not our dispositions.

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.

Leave the rest to the gods.

Those who covet much suffer from the want.

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.

The mob will now and then see things in a right light.

Drop the question of what tomorrow may bring, and count as profit every day that Fate allows you.