I am frightened at seeing all the footprints directed towards thy den, and none returning.
What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so beloved?.
At Rome I love Tibur; then, like a weathercock, at Tibur Rome.
If you know anything better than this candidly impart it; if not, use this with me.
What does not wasting time change! The age of our parents, worse than that of our grandsires, has brought us forth more impious still, and we shall produce a more vicious progeny.
Naked I seek the camp of those who desire nothing.