Profits on the exchange are the treasures of goblins.
But life is short: while one lives, everything is lacking; when one is dead, everything is superfluous.
The fire of love and the cold of time, deprive my sweet love of his peace of mind.
There is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy.
With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy.
All right, then, I'll say it: Dante makes me sick.