Not treasured wealth, nor the consul's lictor, can dispel the mind's bitter conflicts and the cares that flit, like bats, about your fretted roofs.

Force without judgement falls on its own weight.

A shoe that is too large is apt to trip one, and when too small, to pinch the feet. So it is with those whose fortune does not suit them.

I hate the irreverent rabble and keep them far from me.

No man is born without faults.

Scribblers are a self-conceited and self-worshipping race.

In labouring to be brief, I become obscure.