Drop the question of what tomorrow may bring, and count as profit every day that Fate allows you.
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.
As shines the moon amid the lesser fires.
Let those who drink not, but austerely dine, dry up in law; the Muses smell of wine.
Each day that fate adds to your life, put down as so much gain.
Heir follows heir, as wave succeeds to wave.