I can never forget suffering and I will never forget sunset. I came home with all of it in my mind.

Though your threshing floor grind a hundred thousand bushels of corn, not for that reason will your stomach hold more than mine.

The hour of happiness will be the more welcome, the less it was expected.

On day is pressed on by another.

Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

Virtuosi have been long remarked to have little conscience in their favorite pursuits. A man will steal a rarity who would cut off his hand rather than take the money it is worth. Yet, in fact, the crime is the same.

Alas, Postumus, the fleeting years slip by, nor will piety give any stay to wrinkles and pressing old age and untamable death.