The populace may hiss me, but when I go home and think of my money, I applaud myself.

The wolf dreads the pitfall, the hawk suspects the snare, and the kite the covered hook.

The cautious wolf fears the pit, the hawk regards with suspicion the snare laid for her, and the fish the hook in its concealment.

As we speak cruel time is fleeing. Seize the day, believing as little as possible in tomorrow.

Fate with impartial hand turns out the doom of high and low; her capacious urn is constantly shaking the names of all mankind.

Content with his past life, let him take leave of life like a satiated guest.

There is a medium in all things. There are certain limits beyond, or within which, that which is right cannot exist.