The mob may hiss me, but I congratulate myself while I contemplate my treasures in their hoard.

A good and faithful judge ever prefers the honorable to the expedient.

Our sires' age was worse than our grandsires'. We their sons are more worthless than they: so in our turn we shall give the world a progeny yet more corrupt.

It is grievous to be caught.

Years, following years, steal something every day; At last they steal us from ourselves away.

The common people are but ill judges of a man's merits; they are slaves to fame, and their eyes are dazzled with the pomp of titles and large retinue. No wonder, then, that they bestow their honors on those who least deserve them.

Poets wish to profit or to please.