I do not love thee, Sabidius, nor can I say why; I can only say this, "I do not love thee."
Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.
To the ashes of the dead glory comes too late.
He writes nothing whose writings are not read.
There is nothing more revolting than an old busybody.
Joys do not stay, but take wing and fly away.