You admire, Vacerra, only the poets of old and praise only those who are dead. Pardon me, I beseech you, Vacerra, if I think death too high a price to pay for your praise.

Life is not merely to be alive, but to be well.

You'll get no laurel crown for outrunning a burrow.

Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.

The swifter hand doth the swift words outrun: Before the tongue hath spoke the hand hath done.

Fortune gives too much to many, enough to none.

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.