Wealth increaseth, but a nameless something is ever wanting to our insufficient fortune.
A poem is like a painting.
Let those who drink not, but austerely dine, dry up in law; the Muses smell of wine.
If a man's fortune does not fit him, it is like the shoe in the story; if too large it trips him up, if too small it pinches him.
The jackdaw, stript of her stolen colours, provokes our laughter.
God can change the lowest to the highest, abase the proud, and raise the humble.