If you want him to mourn, you had best leave him nothing.
Neither fear your death's day nor long for it.
Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that's how a book of poems is made, my Friend.
No hero to me is the man who, by easy shedding of his blood, purchases fame: my hero is he who, without death, can win praise.
There is nothing more contemptible than a bald man who pretends to have hair.
No man is quick enough to enjoy life.