The populace may hiss me, but when I go home and think of my money, I applaud myself.
No poems can please long or live that are written by water drinkers.
What does it avail you, if of many thorns only one be removed.
Here, or nowhere, is the thing we seek.
Noble descent and worth, unless united with wealth, are esteemed no more than seaweed.
The snow has at last melted, the fields regain their herbage, and the trees their leaves.