Age merely shows what children we remain.

Art is a mediator of the unspeakable.

Fret not over the irretrievable, but ever act as if thy life were just begun.

The mortal race is far too weak not to grow dizzy on unwonted brights.

And those whom once my song had cheered and gladdened, If still they live, rove through the world now saddened.

Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting.

Woe to falsehood! it affords no relief to the breast, like truth; it gives us no comfort, pains him who forges it, and like an arrow directed by a god flies back and wounds the archer.