Remember you must die whether you sit about moping all day long or whether on feast days you stretch out in a green field, happy with a bottle of Falernian from your innermost cellar.
Aiming at brevity, I become obscure.
Of writing well the source and fountainhead is wise thinking.
Heir follows heir, as wave succeeds to wave.
Who then is sane? He who is not a fool.
If you would have me weep, you must first of all feel grief yourself.