Air, I should explain, becomes wind when it is agitated.

The highest summits and those elevated above the level of other things are mostly blasted by envy as by a thunderbolt.

Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another's struggles.

A falling drop at last will carve a stone.

Even if I knew nothing of the atoms, I would venture to assert on the evidence of the celestial phenomena themselves, supported by many other arguments, that the universe was certainly not created for us by divine power: it is so full of imperfections.

How many evils have flowed from religion.

There is so much wrong with the world. (tanta stat praedita culpa)