Nos numeros sumus et fruges consumere nati. We are but ciphers, born to consume earth's fruits.
Wealth increaseth, but a nameless something is ever wanting to our insufficient fortune.
There is nothing assured to mortals.
People hiss at me, but I applaud myself in my own house, and at the same time contemplate the money in my chest.
Wine brings to light the hidden secrets of the soul.
Oh! thou who are greatly mad, deign to spare me who am less mad.