The smell of money is good, come whence it may. [Alluding to Vespasian's tax on ordure.]

Conscience, the executioner, shaking her secret scourge.

Many have an irresistible itch for writing.

The gods alone know, what kind of wife a man will have.

The greatest respect is owed to a child.

Avarice increases with the increasing pile of gold.

But who guards the guardians?