Winged time glides on insensibly, and deceive us; and there is nothing more fleeting than years.
Jupiter has no leisure to attend to little things.
The glow of inspiration warms us; this holy rapture springs from the seeds of the Divine mind sown in man.
The brave find a home in every land.
Friendship is but a name; fidelity but an empty name.
Ere land and sea and the all-covering sky Were made, in the whole world the countenance Of nature was the same, all one, well named Chaos, a raw and undivided mass, Naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds Of ill-joined elements compressed together.