The happy think a lifetime short, but to the unhappy one night can be an eternity.
Now that I know what I want, I don't have to hold on to it quite so much.
Avarice is a cursed vice: offer a man enough gold, and he will part with his own small hoard of food, however great his hunger.
Wise is the person at either end. Who can in due measure spare as well as spend.
Death is a mercy, and I have enough mercy to go around.
The lips are closed, for the dancer has plenty of other voices at his service.