As riches grow, care follows, and a thirst For more and more.
It is no easy matter to say commonplace things in an original way.
No poems can please long or live that are written by water drinkers.
Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.
Riches are first to be sought for; after wealth, virtue.
Once a word has been allowed to escape, it cannot be recalled.