If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?
Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
And what is writ is writ - / Would it were worthier!
Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.
Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, As they will do like leaves at the first breeze; When your affairs come round, one way or t'other, Go to the coffee house, and take another.