You crystal break, for fear of breaking it: Careless and careful hands like faults commit.

The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.

The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself the singer of its own dirge.

For life is only life when blessed with health.

I seem to you cruel and too much addicted to gluttony, when I beat my cook for sending up a bad dinner. If that appears to you too trifling a cause, say for what cause you would have a cook flogged.

Of no day can the retrospect cause pain to a good man.

I am a shell-fish just come from being saturated with the waters of the Lucrine lake, near Baiae; but now I luxuriously thrust for noble pickle.