To drink away sorrow.
All men do not, in fine, admire or love the same thing.
He wears himself out by his labours, and grows old through his love of possessing wealth.
Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
The power of daring anything their fancy suggest, as always been conceded to the painter and the poet.
There is a fault common to all singers. When they're among friends and are asked to sing they don't want to, and when they're not asked to sing they never stop.