She knows no difference 'twixt head and privities who devours immense oysters at midnight.
Autumn is the harvest of greedy death.
Many have an irresistible itch for writing.
No one rejoices more in revenge than woman.
The love of money grows as the money itself grows.
The short bloom of our brief and narrow life flies fast away. While we are calling for flowers and wine and women, old age is upon us.