While you remain at home your hair is at the hairdresser's; you take out your teeth at night and sleep tucked away in a hundred cosmetics boxes - even your face does not sleep with you.
Our days pass by, and are scored against us.
For wealth's now given to none but to the rich.
The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.
A good man enlarges the term of his own existence.
Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.