Led on by impulse, and blind and ungovernable desires.
The brief span of our poor unhappy life to its final hour Is hastening on; and while we drink and call for gay wreaths, Perfumes, and young girls, old age creeps upon us, unperceived.
Those who desire to become rich, desire it at once.
Remote though your farm may be, It's something to be the lord of one green lizard-and free.
It is a wretched thing to live on the fame of others.
He who meditates a crime secretly within himself has all the guilt of the act.