He who wants to get rich wants to get rich quickly.
Like warmed-up cabbage served at each repast, The repetition kills the wretch at last.
Autumn is the harvest of greedy death.
To lay down one's life for the truth.
It is a wretched thing to rest upon the fame of others, lest, the supporting pillar being removed, the superstructure should collapse in ruin.
The love of popularity holds you in a vice.