Some are good, some are middling, the most are bad.

Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.

You give me nothing during your life, but you promise to provide for me at your death. If you are not a fool, you know what I wish for!

Red-haired, black-lipped, club-footed, and blink-eyed; if you're a good man, you're a wonder!

See, how the liver is swollen larger than a fat goose! In amazement you will exclaim: Where could this possibly grow?

You praise, in three hundred verses, Sabellus, the baths of Ponticus, who gives such excellent dinners. You wish to dine, Sabellus, not to bathe.

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