Our years Glide silently away. No tears, No loving orisons repair The wrinkled cheek, the whitening hair That drop forgotten to the tomb.

With you I should love to live, with you be ready to die.

Frugality is one thing, avarice another.

High descent and meritorious deeds, unless united to wealth, are as useless as seaweed.

His anger is easily excited and appeased, and he changes from hour to hour.

An accomplished man to his fingertips.

Not to be lost in idle admiration is the only sure means of making and preserving happiness.