Nothing is too high for the daring of mortals: we storm heaven itself in our folly.
In vain will you fly from one vice if in your wilfulness you embrace another.
The things, that are repeated again and again, are pleasant.
For everything divine and human, virtue, fame, and honor, now obey the alluring influence of riches.
Scribblers are a self-conceited and self-worshipping race.
No one is content with his own lot.