You may drive out nature with a pitchfork, yet she'll be constantly running back.
Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
The cautious wolf fears the pit, the hawk regards with suspicion the snare laid for her, and the fish the hook in its concealment.
Despise pleasure; pleasure bought by pain in injurious.
Live mindful of how brief your life is.
The short span of life forbids us to spin out hope to any length. Soon will night be upon you, and the fabled Shades, and the shadowy Plutonian home.