Whither, O god of wine, art thou hurrying me, whilst under thy all-powerful influence?
Poets wish to profit or to please.
He has not lived badly whose birth and death has been unnoticed by the world.
He appears mad indeed but to a few, because the majority is infected with the same disease.
Unless the vessel be pure, everything which is poured into it will turn sour.
While we're talking, time will have meanly run on... pick today's fruits, not relying on the future in the slightest.