No other protection is wanting, provided you are under the guidance of prudence.
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.
Few people can distinguish the genuinely good from the reverse.
Poverty is bitter, but it has no harder pang than that it makes men ridiculous.
The doings of men, their prayers, fear, wrath, pleasure, delights, and recreations, are the subject of this book.
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.