Art lies by its own artifice.
Nothing is swifter than our years.
Fortune and love favor the brave.
A broken fortune is like a falling column; the lower it sinks, the greater weight it has to sustain.
Seeking is all very well, but holding requires greater talent: Seeking involves some luck; now the demand is for skill.
Winged time glides on insensibly, and deceive us; and there is nothing more fleeting than years.