In hard times, no less than in prosperity, preserve equanimity.

I court not the votes of the fickle mob.

The body, enervated by the excesses of the preceding day, weighs down and prostates the mind also.

Oh! thou who are greatly mad, deign to spare me who am less mad.

Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?

Wherein is the use of getting rid of one thorn out of many?

Poverty urges us to do and suffer anything that we may escape from it, and so leads us away from virtue.