He who wants to get rich wants to get rich quickly.
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.
Seldom do people discern eloquence under a threadbare cloak
Autumn is the harvest of greedy death.
Beasts of like kind will spare those of kindred spots.
Conscience, the executioner, shaking her secret scourge.