The bee is enclosed, and shines preserved in amber, so that it seems enshrined in its own nectar.
I do not love thee, Sabidius, nor can I say why; I can only say this, "I do not love thee."
You ask what a nice girl will do? She won't give an inch, but she won't say no.
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.
Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.
Work divided is in that manner shortened.