Misfortunes, untoward events, lay open, disclose the skill of a general, while success conceals his weakness, his weak points.
What has this unfeeling age of ours left untried, what wickedness has it shunned?
The poet must put on the passion he wants to represent.
No poems can please long or live that are written by water drinkers.
My age, my inclinations, are no longer what they were.
Seize the day [Carpe diem]: trust not to the morrow.